Lives in Choosing
by Tsukino Kaze
Summary: AU Squinoa. Two nations at war two souls struggling. One, the dreaming rebel, looking for adventure. The other a mysterious escapee, running from destiny. How does love blend between these two? And how will it plot against them?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII. It belongs to Squaresoft.... or SquareEnix...... I don't know. ^_^  
  
Hurray, another Squinoa! I love `em. This one gets started a little faster than my other one! Enjoy...  
  
(E-mail change, that's all. Please excuse any problems)  
  
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Chapter 1: Prologue  
  
********  
  
The morning sun was warm on the girl's pale skin. Soft gusts of winds blew locks of hair into her face. She absently brushed away the hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail. Still, black wisps escaped her grasp and she was forced to hold them back as the wind picked up.  
  
Looking up, she viewed a solitary house in the far distance. It was oddly placed atop a hill and sat under the awning of a large tree. She knew he was there, waiting for her return.   
  
Between her and this shelter lay a plain of long, thin grass. Patches of yellow suggested it was mid- autumn. Warm winds took their turn to blow now, preparing the land for the cold season ahead. Sighing, the girl picked up a javelin which lay at her feet. Dried blood stained the edge and contrasted perfectly with its owner's innocent and docile appearance.   
  
Dying grass crunched under the girl's feet as she slowly made her way along the imaginary trail. She tried to keep her head low, avoiding any glances towards the house. This was the hardest thing she had ever done. But it was her choice to begin with- any other decision would lead to her execution. He was bound to die anyway. The opposing force outnumbered their ranks by thousands. And what would he think of her if she had sacrificed herself? Though she would never truly admit it, it was obvious he would have killed himself if the latter had been chosen.  
  
Silent tears ran down her cheeks and dripped into the field. She watched them fall, barely missing her booted feet as she stepped. It was hypnotizing how they fell in a certain, depressing pattern. It dragged her into a trance and she soon found herself reminiscing in events both her and Squall had shared. Every detail she remembered tore holes into her heart and soul, ripping her apart.   
  
Her steps began to drag and the will to go on was becoming dim. The house was not too far now- and neither was he. Such oblivion in a man of such power frustrated her as much as it did make her sympathize. It was a pathetic way to die, she concluded. And she felt foul and cheap being a part of it.  
  
The girl's steps stopped at the short, dirt path leading to the house's entrance. Thoughts mingled and her tears began to flow more heavily as she looked upon the small dwelling.   
  
Kind of pathetic, was her first thought of this house some time ago. Now it had become a sanctuary of precious memories. So now she stood there, observing this shabby masterpiece for the last time.  
  
Walking again was hard- stopping her raking sobs was impossible. She approached the front door carelessly and slammed her fist against it. She retrieved her knuckles and watched as blood trickled down the side of her hand and arm. Inside the house there was a shuffling and the girl gripped the spear firmly.  
  
Seconds turned into hours as she waited for the door to open. Her throat constricted as footsteps approached from the other side. The rusty knob gave a jiggle and then turned slowly. The familiar creaking of the wooden door triggered the black-haired woman and she poised herself.  
  
A tall, male figure stood in the door's frame, confusion written all over his expression. The girl shouted out in fury and desperation as she plunged the javelin's blade into the figure's chest. A silent scream scarred the man's face as he fell to the ground, dead.  
  
**********  
  
Rinoa greeted the sun with a wide grin. The day was glorious and it had only just begun. Tonight was the Spring Festival and the weeks of harvesting were finally going to pay off.   
  
"Rinoa!" Selphie, a girl of high spirits and curled, brown hair, ran up to greet Rinoa.   
  
"Hey, Selphie. Finally done, are you?"  
  
"Yeah, gramps wasn't happy with the job I did last night. Stupid old man..."  
  
Rinoa giggled at her friend's anger. "Well that should teach you not to procrastinate so much. I clearly remember him asking you to sweep a week ago."  
  
"Yeah, well, he should have done it himself it was such a big deal!"  
  
After laughing again, Rinoa suggested they take a walk to calm down a bit.  
  
Sastugas was a small town with hardly a population to count. Close to Trabia, the town was extremely cold during the winter season and it was a blessing to have fair weather out during such an early time in the spring.  
  
Both Selphie and Rinoa walked down an old road used to import goods. It was especially wide for passing trucks, so low brush was the only thing alive within so many meters. Rinoa, though, was pleased to note more greens sprouting this year than last. It wasn't common to see flowers in this region, but this spring looked promising.  
  
"So what do you think of those rumors?"  
  
"Huh?" Rinoa hadn't been paying attention.  
  
"Ya know, the ones about a war transpiring near Galbadia. Probably for some good-for-nothing reason, too I betcha."  
  
"Hmm, well last I heard it was really important. Its scary when they say how many cities are involved."  
  
"Pft, what are you scared for? Afraid its coming over here? We could always transfer to the Shumi Village `till it passes. That place is big enough for three of our villages..."  
  
Rinoa became thoughtful as she walked. "Its not so much that I'm afraid, now that I think about it. Its more that its kinda sad knowing what those people are going through. And besides, if it did reach here, I'd fight for Sastugas, no matter how small it is."  
  
"Heh, you and what army?"  
  
"Geez, Selph, I don't know! It was just a thought anyway."  
  
"Yeah. So about tonight, I hear Seifer's coming back for the celebration!"  
  
Rinoa wrinkled her nose at this. "He's so into himself I'm surprised he remembered where he's from."  
  
"Well maybe he'll have some juicy gossip about what's going on! He did just get back from the army and all."  
  
"Yeah, sure, the only war he knows about is between himself and a mirror."  
  
"But you should at least just try talking to him. I mean, its not like you're flirting or anything. Though from him you might get a bit..."  
  
"Shut up, that's a terrible thought!"  
  
***************************  
  
Brisk evening winds ran throughout the festive grounds of Sastugas and brought life to the brightly colored flags. Tables of food stretched out across the land, ending at the small clearing for dancing. The scent of spices and smoke wafted throughout the whole village, enticing the people and exciting the children.   
  
The celebration was to honor the rebirth of the land as well as the people's spirits. Plenty of rum would be passed about and before dusk the town's people would be laughing and dancing vigorously. Children, still young at body, would be lively enough on their own.   
  
Rinoa sat within her small room, brushing out her long, black hair. Skillfully, she braided it and tied it up into a bun. Her attire was a bright and colorful dress, decked in real flowers and roses. Playfully, she danced in front of her bedroom mirror, pleased with how the dress fluttered in her wake.   
  
"Rinoa, dear, would you come down here?"  
  
"Alright," Rinoa shouted down the hall to her mother.  
  
"Oh, look how gorgeous you are!" Rinoa blushed deeply as her mother gathered her up for a tight embrace. "All the boys will be looking at you tonight!"  
  
Rinoa blushed again, covering her face with both hands. "All the boys my age are so ugly!"  
  
"Since when were you so picky? Here, help me take this food down the street."  
  
Smiling sweetly in response, Rinoa obliged.   
  
***************  
  
Rinoa almost reached the tables, but a strong hand caught her wrist.   
  
"Hey, watch it!" Rinoa struggled. "Oh, its your Seifer! Didn't see you, sorry."  
  
"Well, nice to see you, too. Wow, when did you start wearing dresses?"  
  
Rinoa began walking again. "Don't be stupid, its for tonight and you know it. You're going to stick out like a sore thumb," Rinoa added with a swift glace at Seifer's uniform.  
  
Taking the basket of food Rinoa held, he responded, "Nah, the girl's love it. And, hey! Don't roll your eyes like that!"  
  
"You are so stuck up, you know that?!"  
  
Both stopped at the tables and Seifer set down the food and stole a roll. "What?"  
  
"Ugh, never mind! Selphie asked me to ask you about the army."  
  
"What's the matter, don't want to ask me yourself?" Seifer smirked.  
  
"Frankly, I don't care."  
  
"Sure you do. I know you're just dying to kn-"  
  
"Just tell me about the war rumors!" Rinoa shouted, her dress fluttering at her jerking movements.  
  
"Oh, that? Nothing really but a bunch of mumbo jumbo. A little conflict between Galbadia and Deling, that's all."  
  
"But how did the rumors get so out of hand? It was on the news that it was possible the war would go world wide!"  
  
"Aww, are you scared? You don't have worry as long as I'm here to protect you." Seifer grinned mischievously.  
  
"You'll be the death of me..." Rinoa stated under her breath.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"I said go help my mother take out the rest of the food!"  
  
*************************  
  
The festival ran throughout the whole night, dancing with activities and laughter. Everyone in the village attended, from the youngest child to the wisest elder. It was filled with stories, liquor, and eating. It was sunrise before the (still sober) town's people decided it was time to return home.   
  
The sun rose alone that morning and was settled in the middle of the sky before anyone was up. Everyone greeted this day in a distasteful manner, cursing the mess and the headaches. Only those without the strong hangover came outside and cleaned. Rinoa, still being underage, was out helping the others. Seifer and Selphie, still being underage, lay in their beds with migraines.  
  
It was late afternoon before it occurred to Rinoa the sun was dimming a little early. Taking a good look around her, it was becoming obvious how hazy it was.   
  
`That's weird,' she thought to herself. `The bonfires are out and have been since early this morning. And its still too frosty around here for any brush fires....'  
  
The horizon caught Rinoa's eyes and she let out a sharp gasp. Only a small sea separated her village from Dollet. Except now Dollet was a mass of black smoke billowing into the sky.  
  
Only one thought ran through Rinoa's head: The war.  
  
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R+R please!!!!!!!!!!! 


	2. Wind

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the wonderful people at Square.

(My apologies if I wasn't very specific in the first chapter. This is and AU, as I think I stated in the summary, and Rinoa's mother is Julia. I didn't bother mentioning that because her character is not really important. .)

Sorry everyone for the long wait, school loves to kill. Now winter break is here and I finally get to sleep some more! Whew, maybe I'll have another chapter up, too. Depends on how much cookie baking I end up being stuck with! Well if I don't, then Merry Christmas! Happy Chanukah! and have a great New Year!

Onto chapter 2....

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Chapter 2: Wind

"Commander Leonhart, we have message from dock 3." A stoutly man saluted clumsily.

"What are the reports?" The young brunette didn't bother to look up from the toppling mounts of paper work.

"Docks 2 and 4 are under custody and are being held by ranks 3-7. Piers 1 and 2 are gone, but 3 is still substantial. Captains of both dock guards await your orders, sir."

"Have you word from base?" This time the man looked up from his work, irritated.

"Negative, sir. Messengers still haven't returned."

"Well then continue doing whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." 

"But sir, base central suggests we move onto the northern regions when we have all docks captured."

The brunette set down the pen he had been fiddling with. "And when was this information going to be given to me?"

"Uh, actually sir, this message was sent in from yesterday morning with the rest of the forms."

Shuffling through the papers on his desk, the young man brought up one with especially bold and sloppy printing. His eyes scanned the paper hastily and he crumpled it up in his palm. "Assemble ranks 4 and 8-11. See to it that we have all battalions waiting on docks 3 and 4 for immediate departure to the northern continent."

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Chaos shattered the calm of Sastugas as panic pushed the people off balance. Families and friends gathered and prepared for an emergence escape. Elders advised those who were ready to head north into the the forest of Shumi.

"Rinoa, why haven't you gotten anything together?" Rinoa's mother began rummaging through her daughters room, picking out various clothes and accessories. "Here, get a bag to put these in it. Rinoa, what's wrong?"

The girl looked away from her window. "Sorry, but I'm just upset. Why can't we stay and defend ourselves? We're running to the Shumi again. Last time we did this it was a false alarm... and the Shumi weren't too happy about it, remember?"

"Rinoa, do you not see what's transpiring? Do you know the danger that we're in?" Swiftly, Rinoa's mother began packing clothes into an old bag she found under the bed. "Those power-hungry animals from Galbadia aren't going to politely pass through here and leave things untouched, you know." She paused for a moment and put her hands on her hips. "Besides we don't even have anyone who has skills in battle. How do you suppose we would defend ourselves?"

"Well I can fight! And Seifer knows stuff, too. He can teach others! I'm not going to sit around underground while my home is being demolished!"

"Oh quit being so stubborn! What do you know of battle? C'mon, the wagon's waiting outside."

Rinoa followed reluctantly, shuffling her feet as she went. Outside it was getting darker and clouds of thick smoke drifted overhead with the late winter winds. From the shore Dollet appeared to be a pile of black ashes; smothered by the hands of the gods. 

Galbadia's army was known for recruiting only the best in battle and strongest motivation to victory. Like starving dogs they had been devouring locations and bases for the past century. Now they took their power one step up and attacked their ex-allies, Deling. After a quick defeat of flooding pride, the armies moved onto more rewarding pray, such as the tourist cities of Timber and Balamb. New motives had been made and rumors spread like weeds, telling the gossip of world war. 

The central continent had nearly met its end and now it sat helpless in the grasp of Galbadia's base. Captains and Generals had been stationed from end to end and even reached out to tangled up Balamb Island. The northern and southern most continents would be their next target, collecting them nearly 60% of world domination. Esthar would be a war to behold as forces now gather on each end. 

Tucked away within a blanket, Rinoa sat herself on the wagon next to her mother. Evening was settling in and the stars were not visible- a bad sign. The tides lapped against the sandy shores, rising with each oncoming wave. The moon was not visible- an even worse sign. 

Slowly, the wagon creaked its way along the path to follow behind the other wagons and carriages. Spirit and soul seeped out of the village, abandoning it completely. The houses sat lonely and Rinoa watched as they wept with cold windows.

________________

Morning came without cheer or the scent of family hearth. A bumpy ride had given Rinoa a headache through the night and now she was jolted from sleep by an abrupt stop. Conversation sounded outside of the wagon and the girl recognized the heavily accented voice of the Shumi. 

Avoiding waking her mother, she slipped from the wagon and looked around for Selphie. Eventually she found her by another wagon, pulling on a sweater. When Selphie caught sight of her she jumped over and greeted Rinoa with a soulful hug.

"Ooh, I was meaning to go with you yesterday but gramps wanted me to leave early. Geez Rin, how can you wear such skimpy clothes in such weather? Look, I can see my breath!"

Rinoa grinned wide. Nothing could dampen her friend's spirits it seemed. "I'm not that cold. It'll be warm once we get underground anyway." She waved off the clothing matter and looked meaningfully at Selphie. "Do you think we'll ever see Sastugas again?"

Selphie stopped to think, puzzled more than depressed. "Well I dunno to tell you the truth. I mean its obvious the Deling armies are coming this way, but why would they destroy a city with no people? Pointless, I think."

"Ugh, this whole ordeal is pointless! If I ever get my hands on one of those Deling creeps I'll give it to em good!" Rinoa playfully punched the air. 

Both Selphie and Rinoa broke into fits of giggles. "I think you otta give a good one to that Seifer!" Selphie stated between chuckles.

Rinoa's expression dropped suddenly, leaving a face of realization. "That's right! I was meaning to talk to him!" She gathered her loose pants around her legs and ran in the opposite direction.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

"Whadda you see?"

"Nothing..."

"Well there's gotta be something. Let me see that thing."

Irvine casually handed over the binoculars. "Take a look for yourself."

Looking through the glass, Zell heaved a sigh. "Man, nothing!"

"I just said that!" Irvine angrily slapped Zell in the back of the head.

"Well there's something, just nobody." Zell handed back the binoculars and rubbed his head irritably. "Go inform the commander."

"You own me, then." Irvine trudged his was back into the cabin of the ship. 

"Squall?" A head curiously poked inside the door.

Unresponsive, Squall looked at Irvine with a piercing gaze. 

"Uh, the scouts returned unsuccessful and from what Zell and I can see, the village has been evacuated. There's nobody there." He nervously ran a hand through the long red locks of his ponytail. 

Squall, uncaring, returned to his previous work of scribbling down notes. 

"So... do we continue with the original plans?"

This time Squall looked up with tight lips. "Just because you don't see anyone doesn't mean anything about where they are. Yes, we'll continue and search the whole country. If we don't locate anyone within the confines of the land borders," Squall added sarcastically, "then you can come tell me that there's nobody there.'"

Quietly, without another word, Irvine exited the room and closed the door behind him.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Seifer laughed heartily, his green eyes dancing with humor. He reclined back into the lumpy seat of the Shumi Village Inn. "You aren't serious are you?"

"What?" Rinoa's frown deepened and her brows knitted together. "So you're just going to sit here and do nothing, too?"

"Do nothing?" Seifer threatened to burst into laughter again. "I just spent two years working my ass off to keep Deling intact. Twenty of our highest ranks could be taken out in 5 minutes by one of their beginners! It was no friendly chess tournament, Rinoa. It was a slaughter."

Rinoa chewed nervously on her bottom lip and studied her feet. "Well I know this is all like some big joke to you, but my village is really important to me! I don't care how small it is, or even what you think of it, but I won't just sit here while some mob of people raid my hometown!" She stubbornly crossed her arms.

"Well I don't know what you're planning to do to stop the most powerful army in the world, but I won't be a part of it."

Completely frustrated, Rinoa stormed off into her tavern room.

It wasn't the hardest task to equip herself with various weapons. The Shumi Village was the source of cutting tools and sharp objects. Rinoa was easily able to slip her way into one of the workshops and snatch a couple of knives, as well as a small hatchet and a cloak from the inn. It was also quite common for humans to become claustrophobic in the village, even though the Shumi had cleverly disguised the whole atmosphere to resemble as much of the outside world as possible. A simple lie about a nauseated stomach got her through the elevator master and the surface level guards.

Once out of site from the half dome village, Rinoa pulled on the cloak and plunged into the brisk of night. The path wasn't difficult to follow, for tree limbs and brush had already been pushed aside by this morning's wagons. The battle was against the cold. 

Spring had yet to overcome the frost bite of winter and nights proved a caution to those with little clothing. The cloak Rinoa wore was thin and veiled none of the gnawing winds. She shivered as she walked, teeth chattering in the silence. Twice she was forced to stop and rub her flesh to regain feeling. As she moved on a question stirred within and continued to ask her why she was retuning to Sastugas. The point was to move on with life and let the past go.... but still. It would be a comfort to know she had tried to save what others could not- what others were afraid to do. It was like a thorn in her side to be trapped along with the little people of her little village. To live such a simple life, to run when danger was about, to die when you're decrepit, and to reflect on nothing but the agenda that rolls along with each passing day. To say, The most exciting thing I've ever done was run when world crisis struck. Yeah, I changed with the world, surrendered my soul willingly, so long as I could live my life like I did the day before.'

Yes, that's why I'm going back. That's why I'm fighting.' Rinoa quickened her pace as a new motive had been found. I fight not for my village, but for myself.' She stepped out into a small clearing that had been made before the village of Sastugas. Her eyes widened in surprise when she noted the tents standing in the village grounds and the ships docked at bay. She hid herself in nearby brush and studied the site before her. 

The tents were high and majestic, their flags folding proudly in the breeze. The symbol of Galbadia posted the sides of each tent and they ran back throughout the whole village, maybe at a count of 30. 

Not many for the world's largest army..." Rinoa thought. She suddenly caught herself wondering what she was planning to do. It was never really considered before hand and now she was here, at enemy lines. So just stab a few people and make the self sacrifice? Gee, you're so clever, Rinoa,' she scolded herself. Okay, so maybe those few people can be important people.' She grinned to herself and no longer felt as useless as before. 

Stealthily she made her way in and out of brush and in between houses until she was located outside the largest tent. She sat down to rest and pulled her hair out of her face. The wind was getting stronger and the cloak clutched at her skin like wet silk. Not 10 feet away leather tent flaps rustled heavily against the gusts. They seemed to be waving Rinoa on- daring her to seek out the lives within. Knife in hand, Rinoa crawled close to the tent and gently pried the two flaps apart. A quick peek inside told her someone was asleep in a cot in the corner. Her knuckles drained as she clutched the knife with anticipation. Again she turned to open the flap- but a strong hand caught hers and yanked her back. 

Rinoa hit the dirt hard and her breath harshly escaped her. The cutting knife was ripped from her grasp and her mouth and eyes were tied over with a heavy cloth. She helplessly struggled, but the man's grip was too overbearing. A muffled scream was made, but was followed with a blow in the head. Everything slowly faded into oblivion.

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Chapter 2 down, many more to go. I'll try to update a little quicker next time. ^_^ R+R purdy please!!!!!!!!!!


	3. Round One

Disclaimer: Squaresoft rightfully owns all the characters from FFVIII.

*Well I finally took the time to sit down and write this chapter. Christmas and cookies gave me too much energy to stay still for too long. Teehee. So here's chapter 3....* Oh, and have a Happy New Year!

****************************************************************************

Chapter 3: Round One

Pain split her senses and throbbed through her temples, causing her to wake up with a groan. All memories of the day before had escaped her and the surroundings were unfamiliar. Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Ugh, where am I?" She mumbled to herself.

"In enemy captive," came a snappy answer not too far away.

Rinoa was startled from her previous grogginess and became fully alert. Memories returned in a flash of recognition and pain. She gasped out in surprise when it dawned on her she was in one of the tents she had been meaning to raid the previous night. A small fire was burning in the center of the tent, reflecting its glare onto the surrounding objects, despite the natural rays of the sun shining in through open tent flaps.

Across the way sat a small desk, occupied by a man- most likely the one who had just answered her. His hair was brown and at good length- bangs covering whatever part of his face the piles of papers hadn't. He sat there, not a moment's pause or hesitation to look up from his work. The pen he held scratched and clawed at the paper under his grasp, moving rhythmically back and forth.

To Rinoa's surprise she wasn't tied up or restrained from any movement. She took this advantage to cautiously creep closer to the man, trying to see past papers. She had nearly reached two strides worth from his desk when he snapped his head up, stopping her dead in her tracks. His eyes were livid and irritated, the odd shade of azure piercing her own eyes like shards of broken ice. 

Rinoa held his gaze for only a moment before she looked away, embarrassed and a little dumfounded. She could still feel his eyes- raking at her from the inside and making her as uncomfortable as possible.

"What?" The word was hard and hurled at her. Rinoa didn't look up, but she heard the scribbling of the pen return, suggesting went back to his work to ignore her.

Tears swelled up in her eyes and she retreated back by the fire, huddling up into a ball of misery. Outside, her only possible escape, she watched as guards constantly passed in casual, uncaring paces. Looking back to the flames, watching as they licked the air and cracked in protest. In the center she envisioned her village and the people she knew. The world's most dangerous army- the smallest fraction of it here, in her homeland, to demolish and dominate. To sent all to their demise and burn life as this fire did the log.

The light shuffle of papers broke Rinoa from her thoughts. She was now conscious of the wetness around her eyes and the intense heat from the fire sitting dangerously close. 

"You'd probably look better _with_ hair," the young man had spoken, his expression gesturing to the flames.

Rinoa rolled over, away from the fire, and wiped the sweat and tears from her face. Her vision was blurred and she felt extremely light headed from the heat and the headache.

"There's dried beef in that chest," the man gestured to a corner as he rose from his seat and stretched leisurely. 

Rinoa looked over to the corner filled with boxes and armor and clothes and plates and....

Heaving another aggravated sigh, the man strode over to the corner and pulled out two strips of dried beef. After tossing it to her, he took a step back and examined the girl bunched up on the ground. Her hair was jet, save for the red-blond streaks that graced her hair in a few spots, and would reached just about to her mid back if it wasn't for the tangle of knots. She tore at the beef ravenously, contrasting her actions to the lithe and slender body her soul hid within. 

The brunette coughed nervously and looked away from her. "You're name?" He asked.

Rinoa looked up with wide brown eyes and a mouth full of food. She swallowed, but didn't answer- a look of suspicion crossed her features. "Why should I tell you? What's _your _name?"

The man was a little taken aback, having never been talked back to. His surprise was immediately replaced by a look of tensely controlled rage. "Commander Leonhart." Squall leaned forward and growled threateningly, "And you should tell me because I haven't slit your throat yet."

Rinoa seemed unaffected. "Well as long as I'm here, I am _not _addressing you as Commander Leonhart.'" Rinoa mimicked the deeper tone of the man's voice in saying his own name. "Of course you can just call me Commander Heartilly.' Whatever you prefer." She shrugged.

Frustration and spite contorted the brunette's features. "Squall."

Rinoa looked up with a grin of victory. "Rinoa."

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

"Seifer!!" 

"What?" Seifer stood before a panicked and out of breath Selphie. 

"Rinoa's gone! I've checked everywhere- the whole village! Nobody's seen her either! I think she's left!"

"That's nonsense," Seifer tried to hide his fear. "Are you sure? Remember the last time you made a big fuss about her missing. It was just that, Oh yeah, I forgot to check her house' ordeal."

"Shut up! I mean it this time. And what if she really is back at her house? After that big deal she made about the village yesterday, its a possibility! Seifer, we have to do something."

"Geez, that girl's more trouble than she's worth. C'mon, help me gather supplies."

"What for? Where are we going?"

"You just asked me to do something didn't you?! We're going after her."

"Yeah, but what's the supplies for?"

The blond sighed and gave the clueless girl a sympathetic glance. "We probably won't be back for a long time."

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

The encampment was folded, packed, and loaded onto wagons before noon struck. Clouds of grey gathered along the horizon and winds promised rain by evening. 

"Sir, what's our plan of action?" Zell inquired Squall at the head of the wagons.

"Well, what are our choices?" Squall retorted.

"Scouts returned this morning and reported no other civilizations within a 3 mile diameter. Currently we're located on the northern most continent, but its more like an island than an actual continent. South east of here is another nice chunk of land, but we'll have to cross a small sea in about a day, depending on the weather, sir."

"What's there?" Squall crossed his arms, bored by such formality. 

"Uh, Trabia I believe. Its pretty much deserted, as well are all other places up here, but its a major landmark. An easy take, if you ask me, sir. I could call central base for more troops and we could set up a new base there, if you like."

Squall opened his mouth but was stopped short by a rustling behind him. Rinoa stood up from where she was sitting, a look of disgust on her face. "So is that all you people do? Just go around acting all big taking over everything, when all you're really doing is marking your territory on defenseless cities? You Galbadians really are sick animals aren't you?" Rinoa struggled against the bonds that were now strapped around her wrists and tied back to the wagon. 

Zell watched her and smirked. "Shall I hit her over the head again, sir?"

"That was you?!" Rinoa bared her teeth maliciously and strained as much as the ropes allowed her. 

Squall watched them both in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. "Well when you two are done, we'll depart for Trabia."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Rain fell horizontally in the thrashing winds. Galbadia set up camp under the awning of pine trees, but the branches did little to stop the downpour. Posts were few and the usual guards were released from duty during the storm. 

Rinoa sat miserably by the fire in drenched clothes with touchy attitude. "You know," she raised her voice for Squall to hear across the tent, "I really don't appreciate being tied up like a dog. And you know as well as I do that I'd freeze to death if I attempted escape."

No response.

"Its not like I have anywhere to go!"

Squall walked over in a new pair of dry clothes and sat down across from her. In his hand he held a flip booklet and occasionally wrote down a note or two. "Yes, you may know that, but I don't really know how close your people are. They could be in the trees for all _I _ know." His tone was bitter and sarcastic. 

"Is that why I'm tied up like this? Do you think me and my people are untame animals who live in trees?!"

"No. I just suggested they were _in _the trees. You were the one who just said they _lived _in trees." He darted one of his piercing glances at her from behind wet bangs before returning to what he was doing.

Rinoa rolled her eyes and lied down on mat she was given. In her daze of exhaustion she watched Squall as he wrote. She watched the way his eyes darted back and forth over each page. She watched the way the corner of his lips tugged down and the way his eyebrows constantly furrowed together. She watched how he wrote with his hands and how he occasionally rubbed them together from a cramp.

"Squall?" She piped, but he continued to write. "Squall, how old are you?" This time he did stop. He looked up at her with the same irritated eyes and the same frown. But this time he looked a bit perplexed. 

"What?" Was his only response.

"You heard me."

"22," he went back to writing. 

"Really?" She yawned. "That's fairly young to be commander, don't you think?" He ignored her. "Too much stress is what I see. You'll have a head of grey by the time you're 26 or 27. Too bad, too, I like the way your hair looks now." This time Squall looked up at her, but she was already turned the other way, slipping into sleep.

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Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This stories a bit difficult to write, pretty much making it up as I go sorta thing. ^_A R+R please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Leaving Behind the Life I Knew

Disclaimer: I take no credit for the characters in this story, only the story itself and the evil mind it takes to manipulate them. 

Well, I'm finally done with this chapter! Took me forever, I know. I had half of it, started over, had half again, started over again, then gave up for a couple weeks. So I ended up changing this chapter's idea altogether and I came up with _something_. Sheesh, I'm glad to get this one out. 

Ahh, semester finals are finally done! I was sooo stressed out about the tests and they were no big deal really. That frustrates me! The only class I had trouble in was English, but that was only because I wasn't paying attention when directions were given out. 

I'm going to quit babbling now, so you can actually read something worth your time.... maybe...

Enjoy!

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Leaving Behind the Life I Knew

The grass was pleasantly green, but tiny droplets of water splattered onto her numb feet and she chose to speed through the foliage until she hit dirt. Mud really, by the way it stuck to the bottoms of her feet and squished between her toes. Sighing in aggravation, Rinoa continued on through the thin lines of trees, picking her way along mud and rocks. 

Morning came with no sun, but a nice, dense fog. It stuck to her hair as she walked and made her skin terribly clammy. There was no trail to follow, but it was clear enough to make a straight path through. She stumbled twice, dropping herself into several mud holes and puddles. Her clothes were still soaked from the rain, but now they marked brown and black with muck. She felt light headed and weak and was constantly coughing.

Rinoa had been let out' of her captive for the morning, giving her time to relieve herself and find some privacy. After many threats from Squall and the evil grins from Zell she promised to return by midday, when the camp would be put up. Now she wasn't sure how late in the day it was. The time was around 9 o'clock when she left, but that must've been at least an hour ago. Just as soon as she found somewhere nice and dry to sit for awhile, she would make her way back. 

Rinoa was caught by surprise when her foot suddenly struck sand. She looked up, bewildered. Before her stretched a long beach with the ocean right there! The fog was heavier here, but she could clearly make out the lapping waves to tall standing rocks set far out into the water. The tide was light and smoothed over the white sand like butter. 

What's an ocean doing here? Right by the forest?' she thought to herself. She stepped out further into the sand, her frozen feet leaving prints as she went. She struggled her way over to the water's edge, watching the foam slide over and dissolve before they reached her. 

The girl's gaze was drawn back up and she peered down the sandy bank, noting how more rocks were protruding from the ground along the shore. She made quick time getting over to the nearest set of boulders, studying the surface. It was black like coal and looked like swiss cheese. Holes made easy grips as she mounted the rock and sat upon its tall heights. Exhaustion took over as she reclined against it, enjoying the relaxation and ignoring the bumpy pillow it made. 

_+_

Sleep and dreams were settling in when a small movement caught Rinoa's eyes. She sat up, rubbing the back of her sore neck. Her gaze traveled down, seeking out a crab crawling in and out of crevices. The little distraction from life made Rinoa grin and she leaned forward, following the path of the crab. The thought barely crossed her mind and she suddenly was wondering how long she had been dosing off for. The sun was still not out, making it impossible to tell time. She shivered slightly and rubbed her hands over her arms.

A small breeze picked up and Rinoa looked over the side of the rock out onto the sandy path. Her prints still marked where her feet had been, but the waves seemed to be a little higher, stretching beyond the limit they had the last time she was down there. She took the time to enjoy the scenery from the bird's eye view. It dawned on her by surprise how much different this beach was from the one by Sastugas.

Here the sands looked much cleaner and were the color of creamy pearls. It almost appeared ancient, her footsteps the only obstacle in perfection. The air, though moist, was fresher and easier to breath. She never imagined that they would have traveled this far from humanity. Her heart sank to her stomach when all hopes of escape withered away to nothing. She tried hard to hold back the tears, but memories of what she might never see again broke the bond that restrained them. 

Her heavy sobbing lasted only a few moments before her attention was brought to something else. Through the line of trees so near by the coast she could make out the movements of carts and wagons. Her breath caught when she was in view of the large Galbadian army, slowly making their way to the sandy shore. 

Again she looked to the sky, but the sun remained hidden. It must be past noon if the forces were already trekking again! What if someone saw her? They must think she was trying to get away! The sudden flash back of threats raced through her mind, echoing the bitter and serious voice of their commander. 

The black-haired girl quickly looked around, deciding whether she should break and run or surrender herself. She made quick work of getting down the jagged rock, but a familiar red head caught sight of her before she could run. He came swiftly through the trees and onto the sand, grabbing a firm hold of her shoulders as she struggled to get up. 

"Get off!" She screamed desperately, stuck between shrieking and sobs. Her body was roughly pinned to the ground and her wrists were bound as more soldiers came to see the commotion. 

Irvine then pulled her hastily to her feet, yanking her shoulder out of place. "Should have gotten away while you still could," he sneered with a devilish grin. 

The commander was swiftly upon the situation, directing units as he hurried over. When he caught sight of the problem he slowed down his pace and calmly halted before Rinoa, vexation quivering in his very breath. He spat a command to Irvine and the few following soldiers to leave and returned his frozen gaze back to Rinoa's anguished one. 

He stood with arms crossed and waited for her explanation, excuse, confession, whatever... but she only glared back with mounting rage. Calmly and unaffected by her anger, he said, "I thought you would've escaped by now." He ended his statement with a shrug. 

Rinoa's carefully confined anger suddenly snapped and she pounced upon him in a fury of resentment and agony. She struck out with her ties fists, pounding into his chest. Her effort was half-hearted and only the element of surprised caused Squall to stumble a few steps back. 

With an aggravated growl Squall smoothly grabbed her arms and pushed not too lightly to the ground. His grip was painful against her shoulders as he pressed her harder into the sand, causing her to yelp in discomfort. The resistance she put up was short lived as she began to break down into fits of tears. The whole struggle ended as she jerked her head away from Squall and pressed her eyes closed. 

Squall let up on his hold, but remained firm in his grip. He shook her roughly, staring intensely down on her. "Do not defy me!" He roared in all his enmity. "You've defied me once and I gave you the chance to run! _Never_, so long as you breath in my presence, will you do such a thing again!" Rinoa continued to avoid his intimidating glare, sobs racking her entire body. 

His release was more of a thrust, pushing him up to his feet and pressing her more firmly to the ground. He looked down upon her body, worn and wrecked from the last week of vigorous travel. Her clothes were torn in several places and dirt was stained everywhere, including all of her flesh. Her body alone was thinner than he remember from the first time he saw her. It was only nine days, but her fragile form couldn't take the aggressive treatment and insufficient rations. Her hair was knotted and plastered around her face, sticking to the wetness of her tears. 

His expression softened when he saw her like this. It was amazing how much he was now regretting his actions towards her. And even more than what he had been doing to her being unfair, it was inhumane. She was starved and obviously dying. His concerns lay too deep in his own work that he never noticed it until now. And what did she do to deserve it? Sure, she had tried to kill him, but what other determined soul wouldn't stand up for what was theirs to defend? He should really be admiring her bravery rather than resenting it. 

Squall took a few steps away from her, still watching as she curled into a ball of agony, weeping silently. He was trapped between choosing what he normally would have - to just leave her lying there and have nature decide her fate. Or he could.... no, he was a commander, not a caretaker. 

With a firm step he turned around and made a grand total of three stides before he turned back and gathered the debilitated girl in his arms. He half carried, half dragged her back to his station. 

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

"Shh! Damn it girl, don't you _ever _shut up!" Seifer looked back at Selphie, looking as if he was ready to thwack her.

Selphie seemed not to hear him, too caught up in her attempt at bird calls. She bounced around with energy, marking the passing of an elephant. When she finally caught Seifer's warning glance, she quieted down. "Hurry up and find something! This is boring and I can't even see anything!" Selphie squinted around in the fog. 

"Well, if you would pay attention... Selphie...... Selphie! Oh gods, never mind," the blonde rolled his eyes as Selphie now seemed busy trying to see through the cloud. 

Seifer continued through the pines and oaks, looking for any signs of passing or a path. It wasn't long before they stumbled onto the clearing Galbadia used the first night of rain. Seifer and a now interested Selphie searched around for any clues. 

"Hmm, I can't say exactly how long they've been gone, but it certainly didn't concern them if they were trying to be followed," Seifer concluded with a gesture to the deep tracks leading off into the forest again.

"So what are we gonna do, follow them?" Selphie came up to stand beside Seifer, a look of perplexity written on her face. 

"No, we'll let them go," Seifer sighed and stepped lightly along the trail tracks, plunging into the trees. 

With a look of even more confusion, Selphie followed. 

{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}

Rinoa opened her eyes reluctantly, savoring the final bit of her escape into dreams. She awoke to the blue of sky and the warmth of sun. It felt incredible compared to the last week and a half of rain and gloom. Her brown eyes danced with laughter when her worries were suddenly left behind and she watched passing puffs of silver clouds. 

For the first time in a long while she felt wonderfully comfortable. Despite the tattered clothing that she still wore, she felt herself molded into a thick and cushioned mat. Sighing in contentment, Rinoa enjoyed the feeling for a moment more before she hastily pulled herself up. A sudden pain shot through her right shoulder, making her gasp sharply. 

"Irvine pulled your arm out of the socket. Its fine now, just let it heal," a cold voice said behind her. 

Rinoa whipped around, despite the pain, and tripped a few feet away. "Leave me alone!" She shouted in a panic. Her head flew from right to left, looking for a way to flee. "Where am I? Where are you taking me?!" She seemed desperate.

Squall stood across from her, staring blankly into her eyes. "You're on a ship, crossing a small sea. We'll reach land by dusk."

An uneasy feeling overtook Rinoa and she took another step back. "Where are you taking me?" she whispered.

"Trabia."

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Yeah, I know, this chapter was pretty useless. But trust me, its a lot better than what I started with. You may have killed yourself if I left the other one... or just fell asleep. Well wish me good luck on ideas for my next chapter! I'll accept any suggestions! R+R!!!!!!!!!!

~Tsukino Kaze


	5. New Trend

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters to Final Fantasy VIII. I wish I did..... it would be really nice, but no, no I don't.

Quicker update this time than last. Can't believe I came up with something in so short of time. Unusual next to my regular blank stare at the computer screen. Well I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Yori Kiri: Quistis _is _in this story and she plays a pretty important role really. She'll make her debut later, so just wait. ^_^

SoulSwhispers666: Thanks for the story suggestion, I know exactly how you feel. Personally I don't think there are enough of those moments in Squinoas. But I guess that's only some people (the really mushy ones like me!). That kind of situation has been considered and I've decided to add it later, maybe at a better, more conflicting moment. 

Well, here's chapter 5....

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Chap 5: New Trend

Night conflicted its chill reputation with unusually warm winds. They flowed above the water and over the sandy beach before twining into the Galbadian camp. Rinoa sat beside the tent she usually was tied to. Apparently they weren't concerned with her loss anymore. Let her die, what did they care... what did _he _care. No, he'd rather torture her. She grinned to herself and chuckled spitefully. This was all like a huge nightmare- come to destroy her from the inside out. 

She sat with her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth slowly. Her attention was turned to the ocean's horizon. The moon, a grand sphere of ivory, touched the tip of the water, melting and draining its silvery essence into the sea. It rippled into the blackness of the waves, creating a long, holy streak of light that brushed the shore's edge. 

An almost inaudible cough caught Rinoa's attention. Behind her stood Squall, dressed in grey breeches and a plain, white tunic. Over his simple attire he wore a long black trench coat, giving him an aggressive appearance. His brown hair was wet from bathing and his long bangs were stuck together in several masses hanging over his tired eyes. He looked down at her with an unreadable expression- stoic, yet full of emotion.

Rinoa was silent under his gaze, studying his features in the fire's light. He looked dark and shadowy under the shade of his hair and coat. Through his eyes she could only catch herself in the mystery of his soul. He seemed almost... handsome. Very handsome, really. It was almost painful she realized, to gaze that deep and long. She lowered her gaze, focusing her attention on the plate he held in his hand.

Leaning over, Squall set the dish onto the sand next to her. He turned to leave, but he felt a light resistance. He looked down to see a small pale hand gripped tightly on the corner of his coat.

"Wait," Rinoa whispered barely above a breath. She watched his reaction, but no new emotion dared disturb his stone eyes. He made no move to leave, yet he wasn't exactly making himself comfortable for conversation either. "Um," irritation now stole his features. "Never mind," she sighed.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Dawn torn the black veil of night and poured sunlight over the lands, warming the body and soul. The small army moved on like it had been for the past two weeks, trudging through forest, heading south. Winter seemed impossible just as spring had days before. The party was constantly stopping under trees or in a clearing for rest. There was no particular destination besides Trabia, and that wasn't going anywhere. It seemed the smarter strategy to keep the units well rested for the abrupt attack soon coming. 

About midday the forces stopped at a small patch of meadow, green with new grass. The clouds were light and the sun warm, making it a pleasant break for leisurely walks or naps. Rinoa found herself wandering off into the scatter of trees that brokenly bordered the meadow. She walked with her head down, lost in thought.

Gods Rin, this isn't right,' she scolded herself. He's the enemy for crying out loud! He tried to starve you!' Though for the past few days she had been surprised when Squall had been offering her more food than she could consume. I've got to find a way home! This is insane..... but I _did _ask for it...."

Rinoa was snapped into alertness when she almost stumbled over someone. She had to swing her arms in large loops for balance before she fell hard to the ground. In front of her was the man with red hair, lazily stretched out on the grass. He spoke to her from his not-so-matching cowboy hat. "Watch your step there."

"Sorry!" she rushed and hastily got to her feet. She began to stumble away, but he called to her.

"Hey, wait! What's the hurry?" He got to his feet and started to follow her. He caught up and lightly touched her on the arm to make her stop. Rinoa instinctively flinched and jerked away. But this time she stopped and turned to face him, fear in the edge of her eyes.

"What is it?" she snapped.

Irvine shrugged. "I just wanted to apologize for being so harsh with you."

Rinoa gained a moment of courage. "Yeah, well you didn't have to tackle me! It wasn't like I was trying to escape. You really pulled out my shoulder, you know!" Defiance took over the fear.

"Hey I said I was sorry," Irvine put up his palms innocently shook his head, the ponytail swinging in protest. "Its just my job... but apparently the commander feels a little somethin' for you. I've seen how he's been treating you lately... and even the fact that he bothered to let you live..."

There was a long awkward silence for a long time. Rinoa vaguely wondered how being fed more and having the privilege to live' was even slightly considered affection. Meanwhile Irvine sat down again in the soft grass, resting his back on a small tree. He took the time to look her up and down. "Nice clothes," was all he said.

"Huh?" Rinoa was again thieved of her wandering thoughts.

"I said I like your clothes."

Rinoa looked down at herself. The clothing she wore was still the same- a dirty white shirt, now quite revealing with so many tears and holes - with ripped breeches, once tan now shaded with a darker, muddy brown. There was an absence of shoes and Rinoa's feet were caked with mud and blood. She never really took the time to examine herself, but now she blushed terribly at her appearance. "Well its not like I have anything to change into. And I haven't seen any stores out here, have you?"

Irvine just laughed. He got up and took off his hat. With an outstretched hand he said, "I'm Irvine. And you're Rinoa I believe."

):():():():():():():():():():():():(

Night captured the sky, imprisoning it in the darkness of its realm. Stars stretched across the black canvas, trailing a map of the gods. The moon was bright again this night, reflecting its soft blue glow onto the sleeping planet below. The Galbadian encampment set out under another clearing later found from earlier that day. The familiar brisk winds had returned, whistling from the north. 

Several bonfires were made and groups were formed before the evening meal. Rinoa was startled to find herself surprised by the humane acts of these dogs of people. Their sounds of laughter were a strange comfort to her ears and she relaxed into the atmosphere. Three major groups were made around three different fires. Each consisted of about twenty men. Did more join them? She wondered at the amount, as there seemed less when she first encountered the units. 

Rinoa stood back from the site for a moment, playing with the tips of her hair. The feeling of all these men and no families still put her on the edge, delaying her to jump so carelessly into the laughter of this evening. Instead she headed back to the commander's tent, hoping he had set out a separate meal for her by her pallet. 

When Rinoa reached the inside of her tent she was mildly surprised to not see Squall at his little portable desk, writing away. The tent felt empty now that she noticed the unfamiliar absence. By her pallet there was no dish, but something did wait for her there.

A small pile of clothes were bunched up in the corner of the mat. A tiny smile graced her lips as she thought of Irvine. She came to kneeled by the pile and carefully unfolded and examined each particle. With a slight hesitation she freed herself of the old clothes and pulled on the new ones. All of it being the army's accessories, the shirt was three sizes too big and weighed heavily, defying the term of empty pockets. The pants were baggy and sagged, even with the leather string that had been provided to work as a belt. The boots put up a fight against her stride, so she decided to leave those off for the time being. 

Once fully clothed again the girl looked down at herself. She looked like a child lost in a bag, but at least it covered her whole body and kept her warm. Even the smell wasn't half bad, only the slight scent of mildew lingered. She left the tent with hopes of not tripping over herself. Approaching one of the fires, Rinoa studied the faces around it. She caught sight of Irvine and he gestured her over. Men looked at her as she passed- some looked a little confused while others laughed.

"Well they don't exactly fit, but thanks anyway," Rinoa sat down in the small space Irvine made next to him.

He looked at her and smiled, laughter on the edge of his lips. "No, I suppose they don't. But don't thank me, I didn't get them for you."

"What? You didn't? Then you mean it was..." Her gaze travelled over the faces around her until it hit one sitting far on the other side of the fire. The man looked lost in thought, chewing absently while staring into the embers.

"Yeah. I just brought it to his attention. Sometimes he's too busy to notice it on his own," Irvine laughed and took a bite of crusty bread. He offered her some of his rations, but she refused, too busy chewing her hair and playing with the seams of her new clothes. 

"I want to go home..." she whispered to herself.

"Hm?" Irvine looked at her, mouth full. 

Rinoa didn't answer, but a single tear ran down her cheek and fell into the dirt between her feet. This was such a monstrous mess. Why did she even think of getting herself into this. You can't be a hero if that's what you strive to be, she realized. Now she stood, wiping the tear from her dirty cheek. But that won't stop her from being the victor. She walked with a firm and determined stride back to the tent. 

Things would be different. No longer would she linger on the submissive side of herself. Boldness and bravery were the only things that could get her out of this mess. She lay down on the mat and curled up, pushing back the nag that told her it was that that got her here in the first place.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The forces were up early the next morning, eager to conquer the next trail. Trabia should be in site by the afternoon and the soldiers were becoming anxious for action. The sun only caught a glimpse of the sleeping camp before they were off.

Rinoa had a rude awakening, almost being packed up with the tent. She waited outside in the brisk of dawn with half lidded eyes. She felt a light shifting to her side and turned to see Squall, dressed in his usual attire of black pants and a plain white shirt. He handed her a soft round object without even looking at her.

Rinoa looked down into her open palm, grinning in delight at the sight of a violet plum. For a moment she knit her brows together. "Squall," she asked, "where'd you get this? They don't grow anywhere up here. This is a delicacy where I'm from..."

Squall turned to her, his eyes a mirror barrier. His frown deepened as he replied, "Just eat it and quit asking so many questions."

The black haired girl looked down at the plum again and chewed at her bottom lip. "Thank you for the clothes."

"Its the smallest size we have," he snapped back.

This time Rinoa looked up at him with an upraised eyebrow. "I didn't ask."

Squall made short of a growl and a snort. "You were going to."

Rinoa merely giggled as she bit into the plum, savoring the taste of sweet juices that had left her senses for dried meat. Squall glared at her from behind his bangs, as if waiting for a response... or another question. The girl looked back, confused. 

Why does he always look at me like he wants to kill me?' she thought. It creeps me out...' She took a step back. "Thank you, its really good."

Squall sneered- a devilish growl mixed in with the baring of teeth. He appeared mad... or upset, but then when didn't he?

"Commander!" The call was distant, but Rinoa thanked for Squall's distraction and escaped his invisible prison. She fled into the heart of the packing camp, searching for the familiar red head. Her breath eased when she found him tying bundles together.

"Hey there Rin, what's up?" He paused his task and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Nothing, I just think something's up with Squall..."

Irvine laughed- an open, booming chuckle. "There's so much about that man that you don't know. Just try to stay off his hide, will ya? We end up getting the head of his fury." He wagged a finger at her.

"But I didn't even...." she began.

"Just let it go and try to ignore what he does. You'll only get yourself into a deeper mess." He returned to what he was previously doing. "Just stay with me on the trip to Trabia. I'll explain what I can."

Rinoa sighed in relief and glanced once more around her. "Sounds great," she responded and accompanied it with a wide grin. 

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A/N: This story is kinda progressing a little faster than I expected. Sorry if the relationship is moving right into it... that's why I still have Squall all mad and stuff ^_^. Irvine had to interrupt there too, but this is not a Rinoa/ Irvine!!!!! It is, behold, a Squinoa. Rinoa just seemed a little lonely so I had to give her a friend. 

R+R please!! Suggestions welcome!


	6. Loose Ends

Disclaimer: Squall, Rinoa, Selphie, Seifer, Zell, and Irvine all belong to Squaresoft. All locations, or at least the ones I haven't fiddled with, are also Squaresoft's.

Really sorry for taking soooo long to write this chapter. I guess I'm just being really lazy, heh heh. Finally, though, the story is beginning to progress. I have some new ideas, too, so something interesting should be happening soon. Enjoy!

Yori Kiri: Actually, they are heading south. They started out from a village only slightly south west of Shumi. From there, Trabia is south east. Sorry for any confusion.

Chapter 6: Loose Ends

"Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four..."

"So help me, if you count ever damn fish we pass, I'll strangle you."

Selphie glanced over her shoulder at Seifer, smirking devilishly. "Twenty-five."

"Shut up!" Seifer grab her by the cuff of her blue sweater and yanked her back into her seat, away from the window. "Can't you sit still for five minutes?"

Selphie sat across from him in the train, mischief dancing through her green eyes. The edges of her lips twitched slightly as she restrained from bursting into laughter. "Lighted up, will you? Might as well make the best of this." Her wondering gaze traveled back to the window and she sighed.

"If I wanted to make the best of it, I would've left you back at the village," Seifer mumbled beneath his breath.

"What was that?"

"I'm going to go look around for a diner or something. Don't move," he threatened as he rose from his seat and stalked into the next car. Selphie merely nodded, ignoring the fact that trains didn't have diners.

--

Seifer sat down in an empty seat, sinking into the leather that squeaked and whined as he descended. He ran a hand through his short blond hair and looked outside into the ocean oblivion. Why am I doing this?' he constantly nagged himself.

Three weeks ago everything had been fine. Sastugas had just reached Shumi and everyone was out of danger. Though the people weren't necessarily forced to stay within the Shumi boundaries, Seifer counted himself as becoming more than just friends with Rinoa while they were trapped' together. But that stubborn girl had to go out and save the world...again. Well, more or less, she gotten herself into trouble when she was little, playing out the role of the superhero or a medieval legend.

Now she was older, just turning twenty-one this autumn, yet childhood desires still dragged along like an evening shadow. Seifer had be so sure she was kidding the day she had approached him and presented her plan' to save the village. Apparently he had underestimated her and the ambitions she presented. But that's what he loved about her, wasn't it? The way of her independence and unyielding determination. The way of her sparkling brown eyes as they looked upon life with adventure. The way she smiled at _everything_, especially in times of calamity. Since the first time Seifer set eyes on her some years ago, he knew he was in love. But she always resisted and ignored his advances, despite how obvious they were to everyone else. Such independence....

Maybe what he was doing today- what he would for her in short time, would change her opinion of him. He had been more than willing to search for her through the northern forests, though he knew it would be impossible to catch up with the mach pace of Galbadia. They usually moved like shadows in the moonless night, he knew from unfavorable experience in Deling. Though they hadsurprised him when he found the fresh clearing that was left so obvious. Their numbers must've been incredible to leave them so confident.

Continuing to search for Rinoa like that, with no mounts and a human alarm at his side, would have proved fatal if they ever managed to catch up. But he knew where they were heading. Trabia was a perfect base- hardly populated and spacious enough for thousands of troops. Information like this could give Esthar and Deling the upper hand, resulting him now to be sitting on this speed-train, traveling with a swift pace to Deling City.

Snow, snow, snow! That's all there ever was! Rinoa was so sure this spring would be warm and full of foliage. Now she sat in the front of a carriage-wagon with blue lips and frozen fingers. "Whose idea was it to ride these and not some heat-providing vehicle?"

The red-head who sat next to her laughed flatly and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Well unless you know of any vehicles that don't rely on gasoline or solar power, I think you can take that up with headquarters."

Rinoa bundled closer against the hard wooden seat behind her. "Well you had ships, couldn't we have used those instead?"

"Trabia isn't the easiest to reach by ship, and we would have had to get off and travel by foot for some distant anyway, and the ship's livestock and horses need the fresh verdure that only grows outside. Gotta keep mounts and food healthy, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But couldn't they've dropped us off further along?"

Irvine smiled down at her and raised an eyebrow. "You really do ask a lot of questions don't you?"

Rinoa felt her cheeks grow hot and she buried her face behind her arms and knees. "Sorry," she murmured.

================

The inside of the carriage seemed just as cold as the outside, only lacking the biting winds. It certainly was just as bumpy, he thought.

"I dunno, I suppose I'll just go back to Balamb and find myself a nice girl. Once this is all over, of course. I wonder what my salary will be then? You think I would have to do something _really _important to raise it, like, lets see, about ten grand? Suppose I saved someone's life. Then what? Do I get a better station? Stay under your command? Raise myself twenty ranks?"

Squall turned from the window, his face drooping with boredom and vexation. "Unless you plan to recruit as many more men as you ask for salary, lead them over the southern boundaries, find the two missing islands off of Esthar and Central, as well as conquer them, mind you, lead millions into war with this world's most feared and populated army, return _alive _and donate the captured Esthar to Galbadia's state country, and manage to control the rest of your captive countries and continents until someone knows what to do with them," Squall shrugged and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, "then maybe you could earn yourself a few more ranks."

Zell was staring a Squall with wide eyes, his mouth slightly opened in amazement. He didn't even think Squall was listening to him, let alone willing to reply. "Well, uh, yeah...of course."

"Zell, what do you suppose our chances really are?" Squall sat up again and stared lazily outside at the passing white scenery.

"Uh, I... I don't know for sure, sir," Zell said uneasily, foreign to the feeling of Squall conversing.

"Don't address me as sir' when out of public, Zell, I've known you for eleven years and I'm asking your honest opinion." Squall turned to him. "Isn't that what all people want from me? To open up and express?" he sneered mockingly.

"I meant no offense, si...Squall. You know how its been up here for the past month. People are getting anxious towards the inevitable and they'd feel better knowing more about the one they're forced to trust."

Squall's eyes turned sharp and his voice became menacing. "You think it would be smart to tell them all that I, with heartfelt honesty, believe we have no chance whatsoever? That we are going to be slaughtered brutally before we step foot on Esthar territory? That the very air they breath is poisoned with hate for us? That every other country feels no less? We have no hope." Squall took a moment to fix Zell with one of his forbidding expressions. "Would that make them feel a little more secure?"

Zell was quiet for a long time, training his eyes alone the window seal. "You could lie to make them feel better..."

"And how is lying to them suppose to make them trust me more?"

Evening settled in over the frozen landscape, though the grey clouds shrouding the setting sun hadn't changed from since that morning. The forest was thinning drastically and Trabia was clearly in view of the camp, three maybe four miles far. Galbadia found a small rise with few trees and settled on the overlook of the city. Fires were made inside individual tents and each man ate in his own company, despite an addition two or three friends.

The winds this night were calmer, but Rinoa could still see the large flag waving high into the air from where she stood. Her black hair stuck to her icy face as she looked for a hidden area to relieve herself. She trudged through the deep snow with extreme difficulty and she gasped several times when her clunky boots sank in some places up to two feet deep.

Eventually Rinoa found a patch of small, but sufficient bushes where she finished up. The way back was a slight bit easier as she tried to use the same holes to step in. She was almost in view of the camp when a clump of pine trees caught her attention from the east. At the distance from which she stood it was hard to make out, but the bark seemed to be different compared to the usual dark browns and crusty reds. Intriged, she struggled to make her way across the new, powdery snow. Thankfully, though the snow was thinner and easier to tread as she came under the awning of large, umbrella branches.

When she reached the first tree she furrowed her brows and touched the bark. A small smile graced her lips as she came to realize the bark's imperfection. Carved into usual browns was the shape of a heart and two initials. But the whole tree was filled with them, revealing the trunk's inner yellowish-brown color.

Rinoa shifted and looked upon all the trees in the area, grinning at the same appearance in all of them. Apart from the regret and sympathy she had for the pain these plants must've gone through, Rinoa began looking through the small forest of hearts, reading off names to herself.

"Jane and Richard, Sabia and Turner, Antipholus and Celia, Egeus and Nerissa...these just keep getting weirder," she whispered to herself. She explored deeper and deeper into this mysterious forest and soon found herself a little lost. Sighing, she became acutely aware of the tensing throughout her thighs and the cramping in her calves. Turning to make her way back, Rinoa was startled to find her footprints had completely vanished. Her eyes turned wide as she reached down to touch the soft snow that must've just fallen. Looking up, she found a small hole made by the circle of trees. She was granted a clear view of the sky, but a few wispy clouds showed no threat as to of snowed just recently. And without as much as a revelation, her attention was brought to the few stars she could hardly make out. Must be getting late,' her mind wandered. Definatly not wanting to be stuck out in the cold, lost... or found in much of the same manner as the last time, she improvised her way back through the pines.

Eventually, Rinoa began reading familiar names and knew faiguly where she was. The sun's light had completly left the land and she blindly struggled to reach the final tree. She stepped out into the clearing and once again she could see tracks made by herself earlier. She was completly perplexed by this oddity. She glanced back once more into the trees and still failed to see her own path. Turning back to the camp, Rinoa left the forest without another glance back at the small miracle she missed.

{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}{:}

It was actually close to seven o'clock when Rinoa returned to the commander's tent. She stumbled in and once again found him at his desk writing. He wore loose brown pants and a white shirt with a heavy brown cloak wrapped tightly around his neck.

He looked up at her and Rinoa grinned at him. "I've never seen you wear something so casual!" she exclaimed. "....What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Squall sat across the tent, but even then he looked at her in shock. "Where'd you go? How long have you been outside?" He abruptly stood and approached her.

"What are you talking about?" She eyed him suspiciously as he advanced upon her.

"Rinoa," he said sincerely and the girl was truly surprised by his show of emotions. "Rinoa, your lips are blue and you haven't any gloves on you! Do you have a death wish?" Squall paused to grab a heavy wool blanket packed into the piles along the wall.

Rinoa suddenly shivered, now conscious of how cold she really was. Her feet, arms, and face were completely numb. Her torso was soaking through, as Rinoa forgot the fabric she wore wasn't exactly the most waterproof. Her eyes still wide with surprise, she suddenly caught a surge of anger. "What do you care? Wouldn't you rather me dead?" she spit. "I'm just dead weight anyway!" 

Squall stopped short before her, fury flashing through his eyes. Rinoa cringed as she knew that she had gone way beyond his limit. "You will _not _talk to me that way. I've told you that once before and you are pushing your luck with me!" He took a firm step forward and was no more than a foot apart from her. She could feel heat of his body, and despite the urge to smack him, she also had to mentally fight with herself not to lean into him. When Squall raised his hand, Rinoa flinched and closed her eyes, fearing his menacing strike. Instead she felt as soft tug at her shoulders. "Take off this jacket and lay it out to dry." Rinoa hesitated for a moment, afraid to move or open her eyes. "Go on before I take it off for you!" he threatened. She gasped and felt a slight warming in her face, thankful that her cheeks were already as red as they would get.

"I can do it myself, thank you," she replied sarcastically and led herself over to the fire. She removed her outer clothing and was left in the wet rags she had since the beginning of this journey. She sat on her pallet near the flames, savoring the warmth they produced. It wasn't long before she could sense feeling coming back into her limbs and face. Her teeth began to chatter as she reached the stage between warmth and freezing and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

Rinoa suddenly became rigid when she felt Squall behind her, wrapping her in the wool blanket. She shivered involuntarily as his fingers brushed along the hollow of her neck, covering her completely in the warmth of the blanket. When she felt his presence leave she sighed to herself in balmy contentment. Sleep followed soon after as Rinoa drifted into a dream-filled state.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Morning came to the black-haired girl in comfort of the smell of mild spices. She took the scent in with deep breaths, relishing the way it tingled her senses. Slowly, she opened her eyes and was treated with the memories of the evening before. At the moment she was surprised to find herself in this thick blanket, enjoying the lingering scent that must've been Squall.

Rinoa sat up quickly and shook her head to release the pleasant thoughts. No, no, no! She squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep breaths of fresh, nontoxic air. Okay,' she thought, looking outside into a clear sky, healthy girl, healthy thoughts.' She rose from her pallet and slipped back into her clothes from yesterday. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun and she retreated from the tent, repeating to herself, Its only natural, its only natural...'

This morning the camp was moving a little slower, lazily packing up the tents and supplies. Rinoa walked through, waving to some of the soldiers she had gotten to know over the past weeks. Even Zell earned a spot on her Wave-To list, though she shook her fist at him teasingly every time. It was odd to see these men of battle so... so....human. They really were _just _men.

When Rinoa found Irvine she smiled at him and asked what was going on. "Well," he replied, "Trabia's so close we don't need to leave in such haste. The commander even assumed that there would be no need for battle because these people are so peaceful and unconcerned with the rest of the world."

"Oh, so we just march right up and demand their ruling and they just hand it over like nothing?" Rinoa raised and eyebrow questioningly.

"Yep, that's pretty much it."

"Well, then, at least there will be no killing...right?"

"Yeah, most likely it'll just be a peaceful counsel and they might even help us."

"Why would anyone want to do that?!" Rinoa covered her mouth, but it was too late. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Irvine interrupted her. "Don't worry about it, I can see where you come from. Just look what we did to the rest of the world. Who wouldn't be shocked that anyone would ally with us? But once their mayor or leader discusses matters with our commander, its very probable that they'll change their opinion."

A look of confusion crossed Rinoa's face and she looked closely at Irvine. "Why? What does Galbadia's reasonings have to do with changing a whole city's opinion?"

Irvine could tell that Rinoa meant no offense, she truly was just a curious girl. But Irvine still brought out a serious expression and regarded Rinoa sternly. "That's not for your information, and I don't suggest you go asking around...especially Squall."

"Oh, sorry."

The trip to Trabia's city was slow and almost relaxing. The weather was warming up and soldiers were talking and conversing a lot more compared to the day prior. Trabia was a beautiful city, Rinoa could see. The buildings were small and spacious, though the expanse of the town itself ran beyond the human eyesight. In the center of the city Rinoa could barely make out a large building, surrounded by an area of dense trees. How odd, she thought, to have a lone building in the midst of a forest, all directly in the heart of a huge city.

Rinoa jumped off the carriage and walked around until she was at the entrance of the gates with several other soldiers. The walls were short and not built for defense and the gates were wide and flashy, the medal twisted and formed into the shapes of two creatures she remembered seeing on the way over here. Beyond the barred gates she could see into the city, hardly alive, but full of decorations and appealing sculptures.

An older man, followed by two foot soldiers approached from the other side of the gates and directed his two followers to open the barriers. Each side was spread wide open, creaking a welcome to the army standing outside. The man, wearing long colorful robes walked forward and looked among the soldiers. His gaze lingered thoughtfully on Rinoa for a moment before his attention was brought somewhere else.

"Trenille, it is truly good to see you," Squall moved through the crowd and came up to greet the older man.

"And the same to you, young soldier," the man moved forward and Squall extended his hand in greeting. "You haven't changed one bit as far as formality goes!" The old man laughed heartily and suddenly threw his arms around Squall like a reuniting father.

Rinoa could see that Squall was a bit taken aback and gently removed the old man from him. "We have many things to discuss, Trenille. May we be welcome guests into your kingdom and feast upon the old days of friendship once more?"

Trenille chuckled again and his white beard bristled as he grinned. "Of course, of course, welcome all your men...and woman," he said with another glance over at Rinoa.

Squall glanced back at her and she gave him a frightened look. His gaze darkened slightly, but he turned back to the man with a friendly expression. "Like I said, Trenille, there is much to discuss. Now let us be off into your homage."

A/N: I took a different approach to this chapter. I'm a little disappointed because I think I made Squall a little out of character. But I guess I can't have him a grouch _all _the time. I'm finally beginning to shape this into something of an actual story. Yay me! Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this installment. RR!!!!


	7. Fate's Calling

Disclaimer: I don't have any copyright material to anything, including things that I've done.... besides this story, of course.

^_^ Hey everyone! I took greater care to make corrections in this chapter before I posted it. I'm really sorry for chapter 6, I almost cried when I read it over. I took care of most of the mistakes in that one (and even added a little extra) and posted the newer version. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. *+* I used a little Greek mythology and terms in this chapter, so if you're completely lost cus you didn't pay attention in history, I have a little reference guide for y'all at the bottom. Happy reading! ^_^

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Chapter 7: Fate's Calling

Trabia's interior was indeed nothing like Rinoa had ever seen. The whole environment was set to a theme of times' past. She scarcely expected to see so few people populating such an interesting location. Tall statues lined every street and she recognized it as the style of the Shumi. But some sculptures escaped her comprehension. Though they weren't quite abstract, the shapes and details were very odd: People sculpted into flowing movements, piled and twisted upon one another. Others where finely chiseled into perfect form, their hybrid appearance almost coming into existence. Mystical creatures and mutated monsters, all sculpted into the most beautiful art she had ever seen. 

Rinoa continued her walk down the long street, admiring the handiwork while lost in thought. It was about mid-afternoon and she'd been out since early that morning, before anyone else had been awake. The night before everyone had been directed to several hotels to rest and recuperate. They had been granted the freedom of welcome guests and were invited to wander the city at their leisure. Rinoa had taken full advantage of both the offer and the showers. She had even managed to weasel about sixty gil from Irvine. Enough of these clothes!

Unfortunately, the girl couldn't find any shops. The only buildings lining the streets were houses, hotels, and the occasional food cart. Not that any people were managing those anyway. It wasn't much of a problem, for Rinoa found the walk quite interesting. The weather was nice and inviting, cooling the sun's heat with light breezes. She worn her hair up in a tight ponytail, keeping even the shortest strands from blowing into her face. Her attire consisted of her torn, dirty shirt and the pair of baggy pants. Her main concern, though, had been taken care of when she was finally able to wash and increase her personal hygiene... not that feeling like a bum made her completely content. 

The cement road had just ended and she was about to make her was back when small alley caught her attention. It didn't appear to be off limits or private, so she curiously strolled over to it. The alley was narrow and dark, bound by two towering buildings on either side. On the other side she could see sun light again. Glancing around to make sure no one was suspiciously spying on her, Rinoa made her way to the other end. 

She grinned pleasantly when she emerged back into the sun, warmly greeted by the serenity of a cozy town square. In the center was a large fountain, predictably graced by an amazing arrangement of a flute-playing Pan surrounded by dancing sylphes. Water poured into the large, round pool below, glistening with pale blue tile. The actual ground of the square was made of finely placed grey bricks, perfectly edged and pattered across the whole area. Around the square Rinoa could see more houses, tall and build of the same, dark stone. Flower patches touched color to the square and bordered the whole section, bright in their rosy pinks, shining yellows, and ocean blues. Even a few town's people were out sitting on stone benches or watering the strips of verdant grass. It was impressively designed, yet comfortable enough that Rinoa welcomed herself into the atmosphere.

She walked over to the fountain and gazed into the water, studying her wavering reflection. Again, she thought of home and the people she knew. It made her truly missed them and she chided herself to actually think she was having fun. Her childhood dreams of adventure had finally been granted... but this wasn't quite what she wanted. Be careful what you wish for', her mother had constantly lectured. Well, once again, mother proved right. But what else had mother said? Make the best of things', stay optimistic', keep a good attitude', you make your own misery', etc... Well it certainly was a hell of a job trying to stay happy and chippery in her position. Personally, Rinoa didn't think she was doing too good of a job of it, but then again, heading off to your practical death wasn't exactly something most people stayed completely calm about. _That _was one thing she sure was doing sufficiently. Oddly enough, her head was still on her shoulders. But how long would her sanity last?

A rustling to Rinoa's side caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. Dearly startled, she looked up to see two yellow eyes staring at her curiously. The small, orange furred creature had crept up silently and was sitting along side of her at the water's edge. The animal was quite familiar to her, for she had seen a couple on her last visit to Shumi. Though she wasn't completely sure what _exactly_ it was, it had the same distinct color of fur as well as the over-grown paws. The fur atop its head bristled out in a lion-like manner, tipped off with a firey red hue. Its long tail matched the mane in much the same likeness. The muzzle was small and protruded slightly, sided with long whiskers. Two long, black-tipped ears shifted forward, waiting for her response. 

"Uhh.." Rinoa leaned back a little, gaining some distance between her and the creature with dreadfully sharp claws. The animal's eyes brightened and it mewed lightly in reaction to her voice. It leaned back on its hind legs and brought its glowing eyes up to greet something behind Rinoa.

The girl looked up to see a woman standing behind her with a small smirk on her lips. Rinoa stood up and turned to the woman. She had long blonde hair pulled loosely into a clip. Her eyes were a vivid blue, full of fire and energy. Her lips were small and rosy, stretched only slightly when she was grinning. She stood taller than Rinoa, dressed in tight black pants and a bright pink shirt, cloning her form perfectly. "Hello," she said.

"Hi," Rinoa replied, still a little shaken from before. 

"I haven't seen you around here before. Tourist?" The blonde's smile grew as she looked Rinoa up and down, noting her trashy clothes. 

"Uh, no," Rinoa said with obvious embarrassment. "I'm just sorta here...um... for a while.. you know."

"Uh-huh. Well, its nice to meet you. My name's Quistis. This," she gestured to another woman standing behind her that Rinoa hadn't seen before. "...is my associate, Xu."

"Oh, I'm Rinoa. Do you two, uh, live here?" Rinoa looked behind Quistis at the other, quiet woman. She had long brown hair, cleanly cut just below her shoulders. Her eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but by the look of her arid frown, she wasn't in the least bit amused. 

"No. We're here on business. But I've gotten to know most everyone here. Big city, small people, you see. I was just wondering, as I've not seen you around. It seems you have a friend?" Quistis's smile grew wider as her gaze looked back over Rinoa's shoulder. 

Rinoa turned, remembering the first encounter she had. "Oh, yeah," she laughed. "He just kinda popped up out of nowhere. I don't know who he belongs to."

"Nobody," Quistis said sharply. She shifted to the side and regarded the creature with her intense blue eyes. "He's a moomba. I've seen him around here before."

"Oh, then he's a stray?"

"No," the blonde's eyes met Rinoa's. "He shouldn't belong to anyone. He's a person." 

Rinoa laughed at this, but it died quickly to Quistis's straight face. "He's a bit furry to be a person don't you think?" The moomba mewed again and Rinoa looked down at it, seeing for the first time extreme intelligence in its glistening eyes. 

"Are you serious? Rinoa, wasn't it? You really aren't from around here are you? He's part of the Shumi tribe." Quistis sighed, suddenly disinterested. "Must've not done something to earn the title of an elder. Well, anyway, it was nice to meet you."

"Oh, wait a moment!" Rinoa rushed and put her hand on the blonde's arm to stop her from leaving. "I was curious... do you know where any cheap boutiques or stores are?"

"I was wondering if that was how you usually dressed," Quistis laughed, turing back to Rinoa. Neither of them missed the irritated sigh made audible by Xu, who was clearly upset at her near escape. Quistis turned to her, eyes almost sharp as Squall's. "You can head back to the hotel if you want. I don't need to deal with you if you're going to be pouting like a little girl all day." Xu's frown deepened and she snarled visibly, before turning to leave. Quistis turned back to Rinoa with a sympathetic grin. "Sorry, she's been a little...touchy."

Rinoa coughed, clearly uncomfortable. "I hope I didn't say anything to make her so mad..."

"No, it wasn't you," interrupted Quistis. "C'mon, I'll show around."

==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+==+

Squall tugged at his black gloves as he walked down the long, colorful hall. His keen eyes took in the rich details carved into the walls. Fine tapestries of crimson silk hung over the passing windows, reaching from the high, domed ceiling all the way to the marble floor below. Midday sun filtered into the immense hallway in a warm, ruby hue, reflecting off wall ornaments with bloody amusement. Squall's eyes darted from sculpture to sculpture, recognizing each deity: from the fates to the gods and the gods to the mortals. Uncertain faces looked down upon him as he passed, some stoic, others full of emotion: such as the simper hobgoblin at the final step of the hall, baring a mischievous mouth of teeth above two wooden doors. They, the doors, barely two men tall, were magnified compared to the height of the whole hall. They too, of course, were decorated. In a tentative manner, as if afraid to break the stone faces, Squall tapped the door-knocker to the cherub faces looking back at him. 

Only a moment had passed before there was a great whining from the other end. The door swung open heavily on its hinges, creating only a narrow passage for one man to pass through at a time. Squall stepped in without hesitation.

The other side of the doors were much similar to the hallway. Squall now stood in a large, circular room, rimmed with tall windows and drawn drapes. Sunlight poured into the room and spilled over the carmine furniture and pale tile. In the center of the room stood a lone statue, almost transparent with a small tint of blue. Squall recognized it as the modern form of Shiva, the ice goddess. Her flawless body was twisted in shards of ice as she reached up to the heavens. The muscles along her thighs were smoothly cut, while her stomach and chest nearly touched reality. The face, not quite visible by her skyward direction, must've been amazing if only to the imagination. It was almost tempting to touch... just to make sure she wasn't breathing. 

"She's new," came a voice Squall barely heard.

"What?" He tore his eyes from the figure and glanced around the wide room. He stopped at a large sofa, a familiar old man lazily smoking a pipe while sitting. "Oh, I didn't see you.""Have a seat, Squall."

"You said it was new?" The brunette showed minor confusion as he sat across from Trenille.

"Yes. Shiva. She was just finished last week. I'm honored to have such art in my company." Trenille looked admirably at the sculpture. 

"But you have all the statues you could possibly want..." Squall began.

"Yes, but she's different. Better. Never have I seen such craftsmanship by the students," Trenille paused, chewing the end of his pipe thoughtfully. "I could see that you, too, were mesmerized."

Squall shifted in his seat. "Lets move on."

"Of course," Trenille smiled. "I hear you have quite the war going on. And I hear you play a fairly large part in it."

The boy's eyes narrowed, becoming suddenly dangerous. "I'm only a commander, Trenille, and I've come here to ask for your help."

"I wasn't talking about you being commander, _Leonhart_..."

"Well?" Squall rushed to change the subject. "Will you help or not?"

Trenille chuckled, obviously not getting anywhere with this boy. "Yes, yes, of course. Tell me, what is it you need? You know very well I can't spare any citizens, for I have too few."

"No, nothing like that," Squall hesitated, earnestly meeting the elder's eyes. "I need base here: a place to rest, set up, prepare, train, so on. We can't stay out in the cold and hope to make any progress into Esthar."

"True, boy, that's very true. I'd expect your units to freeze before you gave up anyway. I'll be happy to help... for the sake of your men," Trenille added with a friendly wink.

"Thank you, Trenille, your allegiance is dearly appreciated." Squall rose from his seat, bowed respectfully, and turned to leave.

"Oh, Squall," Trenille called and the boy turned back around. "I still have much to discuss with you. Have another seat why don't you. I have drinks." Squall sighed, almost appearing to be relieved. Trenille continued as he got up to retrieve two glasses and a bottle of brandy. "You've had a hard journey, boy. If I'm letting you live here so your men can rest, then I insist you rest yourself as well." The old man sat down in his seat and handed a glass to Squall.

"Thank you," Squall replied before he took down his drink in nearly a single gulp. "You've done more than enough for me, old friend... what do you want to know?"

Trenille leaned forward to refill Squall's cup. "You're commander of Galbadia, correct?" Squall nodded. "What brought you to such treason? You know this can't reflect really well on your status."

Squall was quiet for a long moment, dead of words. "I...don't know. Maybe I believe that _my_ destiny lies in _my_ hands."

"But you can't deny your position," Trenille retorted. "No matter what path of fate you choose, you will face up to it some day."

"No," Squall's expression became dull and unreadable. "I don't have to and I won't."

"You're being a child, Leonhart! Look in the mirror some day and you'll see it yourself. This life is false and you know it!"

Squall rose to his feet, setting down the glass upon a small, decorated table. "I really must go, Trenille. I thank you again." He turned and swiftly made his way over to the large doors. 

Trenille stood as well, but refused to stop Squall. Instead he called to him from afar, "When you see what's underneath your mask, come tell me... Trabia will be waiting."

The brunette hesitated with the door ajar. He looked over his shoulder back at Trenille. "Times have changed, old man. You haven't." And with that, he slammed to door in his leaving wake.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Evening had finally set in upon the marble city when Rinoa and Quistis arrived at the market. It was placed directly in the middle of another town square and expanded some way beyond. More people had emerged since earlier that day and business seemed far better off.

"Oh, wow, I didn't think I would ever find one! Let alone one this big," Rinoa smiled to the taller woman at her side. 

"Trabia's a nocturnal city. This is the time to shop. Now," Quistis stated with a study of Rinoa, "What kind of clothes are you looking for?"

"Nothing much. I've only got sixty gil and all I need is a better shirt and maybe some pants."

"Trabia may be a big city, but like I said, small people. Compared to... wherever you came from... things are incredibly cheap. Sixty could probably buy you a whole wardrobe."

Rinoa's chocolate eyes lit up. "Seriously? Lets go!"

_+_

Only a half an hour had passed and Rinoa had searched, tried, and contemplated most every article of clothing. She was finally settled upon an outfit sought out at one of the final clothing carts. She had purchased a pair of dark brown breeches, closely fit to her legs, a dark-embroidered vest, cleverly sewn with mythical creatures similar to the city's style, a loose poet's blouse for underneath, lightly colored in sky blue, and a pair of black, heelless boots, good for traveling and rough weather. Ten gil had bought her several pairs of undergarments and a waist pouch to store them and the extra money in. All in all, she was left with seven gil and a satisfied smile across her face. 

"This is _so _much better!" she relieved to Quistis. "I feel like myself... sort of...again!" Quistis smiled and stood back, examining the girl in her new outfit. Not exactly something she would personally wear, but it suited Rinoa well. She looked up to see the raven haired girl looking at her questioningly. 

"I think it looks great," smiled Quistis. "You still have some money left, right?" Rinoa nodded. "Well, lets get something to eat before it gets too dark."

The two girls found a nice outside dining area and picked a bench near the bustling merchandise charts. They had bought themselves each a customary dish unique to Trabia. Quistis ate a rather large plate of ktapothi me saltsa with a slice of sweet bread. Rinoa had avgha me kolokithakia and a small bowl of steamed vegetables. They enjoyed their evening meal happily conversing of the weather and other random subjects. Afterward they both shared a bowl of Rizoghalo. By the end of the meal, the moon was strung high and street lights lit the path throughout the boutiques. 

Rinoa stood from her seat, smiling thankfully at her new friend. "I really appreciate all you've done for me today, Quistis. I didn't mean to spend your whole day, but I would have been completely lost if it wasn't for you."

Quistis smiled knowingly. "Don't mention it. You were a lot more interesting to talk to than Xu." Quistis looked down at the small watch she wore. "Well, I've got to get going. Maybe I'll see you again some time in the future."

"Alright," Rinoa agreed and regretfully waved goodbye. Once Quistis had left, she turned back to look upon the lively city. She was standing on the outskirts of the market, watching citizens stroll around and children run around blissfully. She looked forward to the day she would be back in her village. 

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The night was chilled as clouds once again gathered in the sky. Rinoa sighed irritably, being much more enlightened by the clear, warm weather. Her empty steps took her back to the hotel in which she was assigned and she watched her breath form before her as she walked. She used her old clothes to wrap around her shoulders tightly, conserving as much warmth as possible. 

When Rinoa reached the steps of the building she paused, taking one more glance at the silvery city before turning to back to the steps. Her swift swing had nearly run her into a familiar presence. Squall stood directly behind her, descending the steps just as she was about to climb them. She yelped in surprise and placed her hand on her heaving chest. "Good gods, you scared me!"Squall didn't reply, but rather fixed her with a wall of an expression. "Well, sorry groucho." She watched him pass by and walk into the midnight street. His trench coat flew behind him, breezing along his brisk steps. His shoulders were rigid and he stride kind of seemed off. Rinoa was tempted to ignore the encounter and just return to her room, but curiosity tickled her senses cruelly. After making sure he was a safe distance down the road, she ran after his trail. 

_+_

Squall stood outside a familiar building, gazing lazily about before heading directly into the bar. Indoors was luke warm and pleasantly inviting as he loosened his coat and draped it across the counter. His throbbing head was placed into his hands after taking a seat in a red-cushioned stool. Everything was falling apart- from his plans, to his escape. Nothing had gone wrong, everything just wasn't right. Somehow he had skipped mirthfully over important steps and road blocks, and now had no idea where to go next. Squall looked up from his palms, sighting the bartender at the far end of the counter and gesturing his attention.

"Wha' con I git yee?" The bartender grinned broadly and looked down at the troubled boy. "Sum'n strong, I suppose?" Squall nodded wordlessly. "Tell me, boy, whot's a trublin' yeu?" A filled shot glass was placed in front of Squall and he took it down without question. He cringed as it seared and burned his throat... but the pain somehow gave him a sense of relief.

"Another," Squall worded, dropping his head back to his hands. 

"Mm-hmm," the bartender replied in distraction. The bell above the entrance door rang as it opened and closed behind someone. "G'evenin' missy. Con I help yeu?"

"No, thanks," answered a delicate voice. Squall sat, untouched, though he seemed to recognize the voice behind the clouds and strains pounding in his skull. A stool was pull out beside him and the girl sat down. "Squall?"

This time he looked up, a flash of anger flickering in his blood-shot eyes. "What are you doing here? Go back to the hotel."

Rinoa returned his gaze with just as much malice. "Listen, buddy, you've been ordering my ass around since I first saw you. We were given freedom by the city's mayor to roam his boundaries to our content. That includes _me. _While I'm here, you won'ttell me what to do and where to go. Got that?" The bartender, cleverly eavesdropping, smirked and set another glass down for Squall. Without sign of mercy, he turned to Rinoa, true spite seeping from his every pore. He opened his mouth to shout, but Rinoa cut him off, equally frustrated. "No! I don't want to hear your now you listen to me' speech," she mimicked his deeper voice and made a wrinkled-nosed, brows-furrowed angry face. Squall was taken aback by her bravery to tempt his limit. She continued in a softer voice, "I'm not here to nag or beg you, so just calm down." Squall, fuming a little less, turned back to his drink and finished it in one swig again. He glanced expectantly at the knowing bartender.

"Go back to the hotel," Squall repeated.

Rinoa, not listening called out to the bartender. "Just get him coke or something. No more brandies tonight." Squall opened his mouth again to protest, but the sober were indeed quicker. "I don't want to be talking to a drunk. Not that you'll answer me anyway, I just want to be sure your breath isn't fatal if you just so happen to."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "I don't have time for you right now."

"Oh? Well you should have thought about that before you dragged me along," Rinoa retorted. "What are you doing drinking like this anyway? These aren't the only drinks you've had today are they? Just look at you, all chumped up. What happened?"

"Nothing," Squall snapped as a fizzing soda was set down to replace the liquor. He pushed it away, no longer interested in drinking. 

"Squall," Rinoa coaxed, "just tell me. I'm not going to go shout it to the world. What kind of example for your men are you supposed to be anyway?" Squall sat rigid, back facing Rinoa. She continued the slaughter, "Well not a very good one, that's for sure. How are you suppose to be leading Galbadia to victory if you're too damn drunk? Are you even listening to me?"

The Back' only spoke one word to her: "Go."

Rinoa sighed heavily, obviously not getting _anywhere_. "Fine, have it your way. When you die of stress and heart failures, don't expect me to feel any sympathy, mister." She stormed out of the billard house, leaving the bartender with a deadly look, just daring him to give Squall another drink. 

"Lemme guess," chuckled the bartender to Squall," yeu two jus' got married?"

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A/N: Well there you have it, chapter 7. Sorry if there are any mistakes. I'll find them when I read over this later, so if this chapter was totally slaughtered, I'll be replacing it shortly. Thanks everyone for the great reviews. I'm trying hard to keep up and on schedule with writing this story, but its getting hard. Summer vacation is almost here, though, so I'll be able to get a lot more finished. 

*_*Here are some of the Greek references used: Pan (the goat/human creature in mythology who played a four-piped flute and was god of wilderness and such), sylphes (mythological women often used to refer as being beautiful or fairy-like), cherub (small, child angel; cupid thingies), ktapothi me saltsa (a Greek cuisine made with octopus, onions, garlic, olive oil, tomatoes, and red wine), avgha me kolokithakia (greek cuisine made by frying beaten eggs with zucchini and parsley), and rizoghalo (rice pudding). Thanks readers!!


	8. Diablo's Descendants

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Squaresoft's characters or locations.

Well, I guess I have to apologize. And I am sorry that I've taken soooo long. I've been incredibly stressed out over the ending of school. I have finals coming up and my English teacher takes great pride in her torture methods. I'm actually suppose to be doing homework right now rather than writing this chapter. So feel lucky! Go on, feel it! ...Anywho, I also apologize for any mistakes in here. I tried to post this as soon as possible, so there are, without doubt, errors. Feel free to point them out to me, for you'll see them sooner than me. I'll probably be replacing this chapter with the corrected edition later.

Oh! Sorry for those who thought I posted the corrected edition of chapter six. I had a bit of a computer problem for the past month, so that couldn't get done. But it is now, with a small new section. So feel free to read that, too! Well, I'm done talking, hope you enjoy!

Chap 8: Diablo's Descendants

Morning came unfit of its title. Charcoal clouds shrouded the skies and piled low over distant mountains. Dew was heavy, setting a blanket of cold over the land. Dawn could have disguised herself in Midnight's cloak for as dark the world looked here. Creatures of all sorts slumbered peacefully and long, waiting out the storm before she had even struck. Trabia as well, hid within itself.

The first to break the silence was among the clouds. The pulse of heavy wings sliced peace and vibrated the still air. Although hushed to the least, Trabia was send into a caution. Lookouts sprang into life as bells were sounded. Piercing, they send a trail of unholy music across the city, alerting every man, woman, and breathing being. Shouts followed the echoing chimes and citizens filed out of their houses. Each was equipped with a unique armor: some ruby red with spiraling spikes, others blue and divinely twisted. Ranks were assembled in the streets, made of groups up to only as much as fifteen people. Women were dressed differently than the men, allowing their body shape easier access to flexibility. They wore close fit jump suits, stained red, with large pauldrons connecting between the breasts. Opposed to them in style were the men, fitted for heavier battle. Chainmail breastplates of silver covered down to the tasset, where then were looser breeches and tall, black boots. Each suit of armor, man or woman, held an emblem unique to the city's style.

Commanders, dressed similarly to the men, were the only ones equipped with helms, large and feathered. One stood before each station, waiting commands from the higher ranks. Meanwhile, Galbadian soldiers slowly emerged looking about in confusion. All were aware of the state of emergency, but none had the slightest idea what to do. New shouts were heard as two familiar figures appeared through the distant fog. Trenille, with Squall at his side, came through and paused in the midst of the a group. Trenille whispered something into their commander's ear, who nodded briskly and ordered his men back into the heart of the city.

Trenille, as he continued on to the front, inclined his head slightly towards Squall. "Tell your men to suit up," he said.

Squall responded curtly and without question. He dispatched from Trenille's side, walking over to the nearest area of his own men. He pointed three of them down the cobblestone street, instructing them on what to inform the others. The rest were left to get equipped as swiftly as possible and join their commander at the front. Squall turned to leave, but a thought protruded from his mind. Shit, the girl,' he reminded himself. He quickly motioned back one of his men, sending him off shortly after with a message.

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"Find its location."

"Yes, sir," shouted down the young warrior, straddled on post boards high above the ground.

"And in haste!" Trenille added before he turned around to see Squall coming. "My boy, have you send your men to my bidding?"

An unusually doleful expression scarred Trenille's features, but Squall hid his concern. "What is it?" asked the brunette.

"The dragons," mumbled the mayor, rubbing his eyes despondently. "They've come, and its only early spring."

"Explain..." Squall tilted his head slightly. "...what dragons have anything to do with anything."

Trenille gave a sympathetic smile and placed his hand on Squall's shoulder, ignoring his slight jerk away. "Child, dragons are common enough, but these ones are mounted. Scouts from Esthar. They've flown over us for the past three years, demanding whereabouts."

"Whereabouts..." Squall said barely above a breath.

Trenille's eyes lit up with a sudden anxiety, but was quickly replaced by a sheet of grief.

Squall was silent a moment, calmly removing Trenille's hand. "And why would they search here?"

"Because they know I know you! Don't be so arrogant. You and I both know that answer. Open your eyes, boy! See!"

Again, Squall was quiet, looking off into the distant. Three soldiers came up to him and saluted. "Commander Leonhart, we've spread warning to all other unit-" he was cut off by a booming scream, sounded from high in the skies. Everyone looked up to see several ruby dragons, armed in shining gold tack with their matching gold mounts, ripping across the air and out of sight. A heavy hush filled the air, replacing the oxygen as everyone held their breaths.

"And three times they destroyed everything," came a quivering voice beside Squall. He looked over to see Trenille, who's eyes were still locked with the dark clouds above. It suddenly seemed to Squall that this man had aged twenty years, life and soul sucked straight out of him.

"Everything?" inquired Squall, almost regretfully.

"You remember it as a child don't you? Made of the finest oaks from all the way south." Squall nodded quietly as Trenille continued: "My city, my home, was built into the forest. Trees grew through the streets and lawns of wildflowers submerged every house. That was true perfection." The man's eyes swelled with tears. His gaze languorously left the sky and matched Squall's equally stormy ones. "So three years back I had to find new beauty." More roars filled the air as two more dragons passed by. "And then I talked with the Shumi.

"More than willingly they gifted my black land with gorgeous statues, brilliantly white against our ashen homes. The villagers felt warmth from the gifts, and so we followed in the art of sculpting. Our new home was made of stone, a fire resistant. Rather than the charm of flowers, we were graced by structures. Instead of the scent of the woods, we breathed a new nothingness... called stone. But we were happy... happy that we still had places to sleep and families to be with. This is what we have, much thanks to only yourself." Trenille's eyes were still sad, and Squall decided it best to disregard that last comment. His eyes held back emotion, but it was his turn to place a hand upon the old man.

A series of more shrieks filled the air as twenty, maybe thirty more dragons glided by, disappearing behind the monstrous doors of the city. Again, everyone's breath was held, but this time swords and lances were held ready with quivers close at hand.

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Rinoa awoke to the sound of bells, chiming vexatiously right outside her room. She rose from her bed with tired eyes and glanced out the window. People, more than she thought lived here, were emerging from all the buildings, wearing the oddest clothes she'd ever seen. She was about to go down and interrogate, but a new group caught her attention. Men came chanting down the street, shouting out a foreign language while handing out several forms of weapons. The chants followed the leaders, coming and going from the fog beyond the street.

She made haste of pulling on her clothes and stumbling down the stairs. The hotel's lobby was empty save for a few maids and a couple solemn-looking children. She pulled her dark hair up and looked over to the nearest maid with concerning eyes. "What's going on?"

The woman, appearing shocked beyond her wits, stuttered two words: "Es..Estharian m...mm..Mounts!"

Rinoa gave her a vacant expression and decided not to ask any further. Whatever was going on outside sure as hell wasn't a parade. Checking to make sure she had everything, she timidly stepped outside.

There was an immediate emotion that swallowed up the girl as she came down the hotel steps. It wasn't quite fear, though that part was significant, but rather an urgency. Anxious faces filled the crowd, both men and women. People held grieving faces, as if they had expected this.

Curiously, Rinoa approached a group of people. She gently tapped a woman dressed in long, blue robes. The woman turned slowly, looking at Rinoa with desolate eyes. "Yes?" she asked.

"What exactly is going on?"

The woman gave Rinoa a quizzical stare, but responded politely. "You're from Galbadia, are you not?" she asked with a strong accent. Rinoa nodded as the woman continued. "Yes, I believe I saw several of your men run down the road that way." She pointed down into the fog, opposite the direction everyone was pointed.

"Thanks," said Rinoa. "But I'd still like to know what's going on."

The woman sighed heavily, and gathered her robes in her arms. "This way," she snapped. Rinoa followed her silently into a building.

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"Here, put these on. You're better to us fighting then sitting around asking questions."

"Fighting? What do you mean? Who are we... I mean you fighting?" Rinoa slid off her top, putting it into her waist pouch and pulled the single-suit over her breeches and up over her shoulders.

The blue-robed woman stood behind Rinoa, buttoning up the jump suit. "The dragons are here."

"What dragons?"

"Esthar dragons, ignorant girl!" Rinoa gasped lightly as a heavy shoulder set was placed around her neck. The woman came around to the front of her and clasped three buckles across the pale girl's breasts. Then she reached beneath the pauldron on either side and released a strap, sending two long scrolls of fine, crimson silk to the floor. Next, she grabbed the two pieces of fabric in the front and tied them in a knot at Rinoa's waist.

Rinoa watched in amazement as the woman tied other knots connecting the back right scroll to the front left and back left to the front right. She tried to speak, but her words were cut short as the woman left the room, returning in seconds with a long, heavy spear.

"Here," the woman said, shoving the weapon into the knots, securing it tightly. "Now, go find a station that needs you." She pushed Rinoa to the door and as she opened it and let her out, she called: "And good luck to you!"

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A bit befuddled, Rinoa walked down the street, now dressed in same manner as everyone else. She trudges along, occasionally yanking on her shoulder armor uncomfortably. When she reached the end of the street, she immediately recognized a face in the back of a crowd. "Irvine!" she shouted.

"Rinoa, where've you been?" asked Irvine with a smile.

The raven-haired girl ran up to him, giving him a tight hug. "Thank the gods I've found you! I have _no _idea what's going on. I tried to ask, but this strange lady just took me and put these things on me!"

Irvine scanned her skeptically. "Well, its better protection than what you had before. But as far as what's going on... I'm not too sure myself. All I heard were some rumors of dragons."

"Yeah, I heard the same. But what of them?"

Zell appeared from behind Irvine, his lips forcing a grin. "I know." Suddenly, a shriek filled the air as three dragons passed overhead, singing their dreadful song. Rinoa and Irvine looked to Zell. The blonde, running a hand through his hair, continued: "They're from Esthar... and as the people put it, they aren't tourist. I was talking to some Trabian soldiers about ten minutes ago and they told me.

"They're called Estharian Mounts, or more formerly known as Diablo Descendants. Ever since Galbadia took full ownership of Deling, Esthar set up these units. They say that they travel from city to city, looking for something. And that something' is not only yet to be found, but yet to be known. So they come, search, and burn."

"That's horrible," Rinoa breathed.

"Yeah, well that's not it. Since nobody knows what exactly they're looking for, there's nothing anyone can do to stop them. Each year, for the past three, its been the same ordeal. Some say they're looking for a what' or a precious artifact. Others said it isa who', who very well might be dead.

"Starting last year, Trabia has started to put up a fight. Though futile, they'll try again and again."

"So that's why you said they might help us," reveled Rinoa at her realization. She looked at Irvine. "But that would mean you knew."

"No," he replied. "The commander told me that earlier before our arrival. I suspect he knows something."

Zell, contemplating the situation, remarked, "Suppose he knows what they're looking for."

"Yeah, suppose that," Irvine said with austere. "I say we instead suppose' he'll ever tell us."

Rinoa and Zell laughed bitterly together. "Well, its worth a try," suggested Rinoa. "Where is he anyway?"

"Umm, some messengers just said to report to the front of the lines. He's more than likely there."

"Alright, lets go."

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More screeches filled the air and more people filled the street. It was a difficult task for the three of them to get through the throng. Soon enough, they were separated, Rinoa far ahead of the other two. Irvine was about to call for her, but a young Galbadian soldier stopped him.

"Message from Commander Leonhart, sir," reported the man.

"Shoot," said Irvine hurriedly.

"He sends word to Irvine Kinneas to find the woman, Rinoa, and keep her close at hand. If possible," struggled the man as he tried to keep up, "put her in captive and make sure she stays out of trouble. That's all, sir."

The cowboy looked down at the shorter man, smiling slightly. "Well, you go tell _His_ _Majesty _that the princess has escaped my grasp and is bound in his direction. Go and see if you can relay that before she gets there," he added sarcastically.

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The crowd was finally beginning to thin when Rinoa caught sight of the front line. She held on to her spear as she sprinted through the area, looking for Squall. When she finally caught sight of his hair and coat, she was pushed off balance by three charging men. Behind them were led at least seven creatures closely resembling horses. They were taller, but more slender. Atop their heads were single horns, long and curved all the way back and over their heads. All of them followed their lead with anxious steps and a nervous outlook.

Rinoa was about to follow the creatures being led in Squall's direction, when a flash of light blurred her vision to her right. Fire spewed from the largest beast she'd ever seen. Clawed feet clung to the city walls as its scaly head torched a nearby building. A familiar scream touched her ears and she felt her heart stop. More of the creatures, these dragons, were landing low, spreading their inferno across the city. Terror filled everyone in sight of them.

It was almost as if her legs had died, her spine frozen, and her body gone rigid. Fear engulfed the Rinoa and she quivered violently. Sweaty palms clutched the spear, but there was nothing she could do as the beasts overtook her surroundings.

Rinoa was knocked back into reality by a roaring screech behind her. She turned. A dragon, twenty feet tall at least, landed not five yards from her. She could see, beyond the armor, a man sitting atop its back. His gaze was fixed upon her. He gestured; kicked with his right foot. His beast reared high into the sky.

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Squall saw her, if only for a moment. He knew it was her, the raven hair, pale white skin. His heart stopped. He didn't even seem to see the first Estharian Mount attack, setting flames to a nearby roof.

He looked around rapidly, searching for anything. His eyes scanned the ground until they settled on a long sword resting on the cobblestone. He reached for it, barely touching the hilt when something hard hit him. A white light flashed in his head and he stumbled back. Finally gaining composure, he looked around to see several horse-like creatures rearing and prancing, free of their guide.

Squall looked back. Rinoa still stood there! Move!' he thought! Shards of roof toppled around her, but her gaze held steadily ahead. Squall followed her stare. No! A Descendant towered over the street, mere feet from her. He watched, barely seeing through flames the mount guide his dragon in Rinoa's direction.

Squall turned back, desperate. A curse escaped him, but a sudden idea echoed back. Abruptly, he grabbed the halter of the nearest mesmerize, facing it the dragons direction. If he knew his bestiary well, then he knew aggression wouldn't be a problem. He shoved the impatient creature forward with a whoop and yell above the other screams and shouts. The creature bucked in protest, but sped off in fury.

Only a moment was spent before the two beasts clashed. The dragon cried in rage as the mesmerize's horn tore through its chest. It was only a small cut in comparison, but it was enough to reward attention. The smaller creature reared a challenge as more of them ran to join the assault.

Squall sighed a quick relief, but time was short. Three more Descendants landed close by, setting fire to all the surrounding roofs. The buildings themselves didn't burn, but wood wasn't a scarce thing, giving plenty to catch fire.

The brunette peered through the smoke, sighting Rinoa in a corner by a wall. He rushed over.

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Everything moved before Rinoa like a series of pictures. She, herself, was in a different room, watching the display: the dragon rearing, the horse-like animal rushing through, and the release of pressure. Or at least it seemed so. That was until the heat hit her. It came blasting from her left. She blinked, looking before her. The dragon was truly distracted, but a fire burned terribly close.

She stumbled to her right, finding the solidness of stone. The tall white building lined her back, seemingly pushing her closer to the inferno. She sunk to her knees, drawing into the corner of the wall. Her eyes closed, almost peacefully, and she inhaled deeply despite the thick smoke. The villagers' screams seemed distant and her heart beat slower now. Nothing seemed real. It moved into a distant image of memories, coaxing her to believe everything was alright.

The heat became more intense, but it was diligently ignored by the girl. Her mind soothed her naturally, taking her deeper and deeper. She sank, about to drown in unconsciousness when something moved her. It was vague and hard to distinguish, but she felt light and a little dizzy. The wall seemed softer as if a fabric. She leaned into it, burying her face in its cloak and hiding her from the air. So......distant....Her mind slipped into a comatose.

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Squall approached her cautiously. She looked dead, save for her flushed cheeks. Her body was lying dangerously close to flames as she was propped up again a corner. He gathered her in his arms, lifting her from the ground. She made sparse movements, only turning her head into his chest. He carried her several strides before she went totally limp.

He had to get out, though. They couldn't know he was here. It was already the gods' blessings that he hadn't been recognized. He scanned the scene before him, people fighting, dragons destroying, mesmerize rearing. Ah! The mesmerize.

Squall made short time getting one of the creatures and placing himself and Rinoa atop it. The animal snorted in distrust and pawed the ground. Squall reached out and sighed when he found reins still attached. He steered the animal to the city gates, checking to make sure no Descendants were waiting outside. He looked back once more, upon the citizens of Trabia as well as his own men. Abandoning them at such a time surely wouldn't reflect very well, but it was more important to leave alone; make it less obvious. He bowed his head, speaking a silent prayer to his men as well as his friends. He then wound his arm tighter around the girl leaning limply against him as he led the mesmerize away from the city.

A/N: So there you have it! Woo-hoo! Please leave a review with your opinion and/or suggestion. Thanks to everyone!


	9. Knee Deep

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Final Fantasy VIII. They are, without doubt, Square's.

Nothing much to say here. Ummm... yeah!

Chapter 9: Knee Deep

The lush jade forest grew denser with each prolonged step. Trees seemed to protrude from the mossy wet ground with each drop of the falling rain. Fog weighed down upon the foliage and shrouded the path with its silvery veil. Rocks and boulders became slippery and slick with water as the revealing dirt turned to thick, pasty mud. The trail was dangerous treading, but the mesmerize is a determined breed. Pure stubbornness kept one hoof in front of the other. The creature gave faint nickers and grunts to its rider, invoking him to ask for a halt, though it pressed forward nonetheless.

Rain began to fall heavier, pelting the ground and causing the mud to sink to a deeper, stickier sludge. The mesmerize was up to its knees with brownish-black mud before it came to a complete stop. A new stubbornness seeped through its veins. Squall, atop the frustrated creature, sighed distastefully. He, himself, wasn't exactly in the best of moods either. His clothes were caked with mud and old, crusted blood. They were soaked with water and felt heavy on his tired shoulders. His left hand, though still gloved in leather, was blistered badly from gripping the stiff reins. His other arm, though not his most provoking complaint, was sore from holding the comatose girl in the makeshift saddle. His booted feet grazed the top of the mud where the mesmerize was slowly being sunk in the pouring rain and rising muck. Continuing forward was not an option any longer.

Squall wiped his wet forehead on his arm, pushing the plastered hair out of his azure eyes. He looked ahead at the marshy trail, then back from where they had come. Shelter. It was his only thought and nearly his only hope. Perhaps he had passed a cave or an overhanging rock on the way. He steered the mesmerize back to retrace its steps. At first it was reluctant and shook its head furiously, demanding to stay put. Squall yanked brutally this time and finally the animal gave a shriek of pain before turning its head.

The watered mud rose enough to touch the mount's underbelly and it only had enough power to turn itself around. It struggled helplessly against the terrain, but the rain was too hard and the sludge too thick to move through. Squall was left with only one choice - one that didn't make him jump for joy.

The commander carefully placed Rinoa against the animal for support. Her torso rested against its strong neck while her legs dangled from the flanks. As soon as Squall had checked her assured balance, he slid off the mesmerize's back and into the mud. It reached about his waist, but the rain was fusing the thickness to a liquidy pool of brown. He could move his legs with little effort and only had to worry about pulling his feet free from the bottom's muck. The mesmerize also seemed to be a little more mobile.

Squall again wiped his long bangs from his eyes, clearing his vision as much as the elements would allow him. The cloud of fog still pressed to the ground and limited all sight. They were at least facing the correct direction. Squall retrieved the reins near the mount's bit and pulled the creature from there. He had pondered about pulling the reins over its head, but thought better of it after sizing up the creature's long, arching horn. Soon after, they both began to trudge through the mud.

It wasn't long before the initial chill struck him. Squall could feel the water immediately soak through his pants and boots. The bottom of his jacket also filled with water. He felt uncomfortably like a sponge. With each step he looked up to the nearest hill - the nearest patch of dry land. The water level began to sink gradually and Squall finally found firmer ground under the water.

When he was up only to his knees, the mesmerize decided the trip to drier land was taking too long. Through the sound of pounding rain, Squall heard the animal give an impatient snort. The reins that had previously been taut, now slacked drastically as the mesmerize made a mad dash past Squall, dragging him along with.

Squall was only able to hold on for a minute before the reins were yanked from his grasp. He stumbled clumsily into the water and sludge and landed on his hands and knees. If looks could kill, the mesmerize wouldn't have made it a half of a step more as Squall watched it totter and skip up the hill playfully. From the peak, it looked back down at Squall through the fog and nickered happily. Well, at least one of them was glad to be out of the water.

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By the late evening (Squall assumed it was this time of day), the rain had seized to pour heavily. The three travelers were now walking through a mist of light rain drops. The tall evergreens disguised the sky with their broad branches of green. Every once in a while a large drop from a leaf or branch would land on one of them. It was one of these splashes that woke Rinoa from her long sleep.

The rain drop landed on the bridge of her nose, but it was more than enough to send her into a fumbling panic. She had not a moment to register herself before she was off the mesmerize and on the moss floor below. The creature stopped abruptly and took Squall's hand with it. The brunette turned, more than irritated and fixed the creature with a stern glare. His attention was soon shifted, though, as he noticed the absence of the girl. He looked back behind the mount and was met by an astonished look. There sat Rinoa, hair splayed in every which direction, mouth held slightly agape, eyes wide with shock, legs spread from the fall, and pieces of moss sticking out everywhere.

Both Squall and Rinoa stayed for the longest time, just staring at each other. Squall was the first to move as a rare grin spread across his face. This was soon accompanied by the sound of his laughter as he lavished at Rinoa's current state. He laughed long and hard, leaning on the oblivious mesmerize for support. Rinoa, meanwhile, made no movements. She still sat, bewilderment scarring her face. Of all the places to wake up. So much for dying and going to heaven,' she thought with a strong sense of chagrin.

Rinoa finally struggled to stand while Squall's laughter settled down to an endless stream of random chortles. He walked over to the girl with a smug grin still plastered to his face. He held out a hand to help her, but it was slapped away heedlessly.

"No, I've got it," snapped Rinoa. She got to her feet and teetered slightly. Squall grasped her shoulder steadily with a new expression of simple amusement.

"I don't know... was that just me who saw that?" The edge of Squall's lips trembled.

"Let go of me!" spat Rinoa. "Jerk. You didn't even.....where are we?"

Squall's smile disappeared and his voice became serious. "I wish I knew."

"What?!" shrieked Rinoa.

"I don't know!" Squall yelled back.

"Wait, slow down. What happened?"

"I was walking and the rain threw me off track. Now I'm a little turned around..." Squall looked around. They were still in the heavy part of the forest, nothing besides brush and fog was visible. Rain drops splattered randomly.

"Okay, yeah, but what happened _to me_?"

"You fell."

"Before then!" Rinoa crossed her arms.

Squall looked at Rinoa sternly. "You were trapped in the fire...?"

A sudden look of comprehension and remembrance filled Rinoa. "That's right! And uh..." she looked thoughtful. "I was, uh..."

"Fire?" helped Squall again.

"Yes, that, but... I could have sworn I died."

"Apparently not," Squall added sarcastically.

"You? Dragons...and, um..." Rinoa again closed her eyes in frustration. She tugged the tips of her jet bangs as she tried to recall. Her eyes then flew open. "Where's everyone else? Did we win?" Rinoa looked around, bemused.

"Well," Squall began, but decided better of it. "You don't need to be worrying about it. C'mon, its a long way yet... especially if I don't know where we're at." He turned and began to walk again with the mesmerize.

"Wait," pressed Rinoa firmly. Squall kept walking. "I said wait!" she called. "I have the right to know what's going on!"

"No you don't," Squall called back from a distance.

Rinoa gritted her teeth in bitter frustration before dashing to catch up with him. "Squall," she whined from behind him. "Tell me! What happened? Don't be so mean."

"Stop complaining," he warned without looking back. Rinoa reached his side and glared at him as they walked. He was being cold again.

Nothing like the good ol' Wall Treatment,' she thought distastefully. Desperately, she grabbed his forearm, halting and turning him towards her. She placed her hands on her hips and looked him directly in the eyes.

All I get from this woman is The Look,' Squall silently told himself. "What?" he growled.

Rinoa softened her gaze. "_Please_ tell me. I feel neglected. Look," she pleaded while gesturing around her, "I have no idea what's going on, where we are, where everyone else is, where we're going..."

Squall's expression never moved, but his stomach wrenched with guilt. He tried to put himself in her position: lost, confused, scared, captured, probably starving...he added with a look at her dreadfully thin body. "Hungry?"

"Don't change the subject! And yes, I'm famished!"

Squall looked about himself, patting his pockets and pants. He finally dipped his fingers into an inside (thankfully dry) pocket and retrieved a small ration of dried beef. He offered it to her.

Rinoa took the meat without question or second thought. She tore at it ravenously and Squall was painfully reminded of the first time he had given her food. She looked like a wrecked child you would see on the side of a street: starved, unbathed, and too small for her clothes. Well the clothes weren't hers by the looks of it. She still wore the same battle attire from back in Trabia. The imposing shoulder piece seemed to crush her under its mass. Squall felt sympathetic.

"Why don't you take that off?" offered Squall.

"What?" she asked apprehensively. Her brown eyes were wide with suspicion.

Squall immediately took her misunderstanding and deemed to correct himself. "I mean the pauldron."

"Oh," Rinoa replied quietly. She held the jerky between her teeth and began to work at the clever knots tied around her. When they were undone, she hefted the shoulder set up and over her head. It was thrown carelessly to the muddy ground and Rinoa was left in the red jumpsuit. She fumbled around through her waist pouches and finally pulled out her old tattered shirt.

Squall was surprised to find himself admiring her as she worked. She was a beautiful woman, he had to admit, but he had been able to disguise his attraction before with trained skill. But now she was undressing herself... well, to a degree. Squall found it painfully stimulating- the way her fingers worked feverishly, the way her brows knitted in concentration, and the way her slender, and a bit too thin body, looked in the jumpsuit. He was thankfully diverted by the pawing of the mesmerize behind him. He turned from Rinoa and focused all of his attention on soothing the impatient creature.

Rinoa slipped into the old, wrinkled shirt and looked back to Squall only to find his back facing her. She grinned inwardly and began to chew at the meat again. "C'mon," she called, "you said yourself it was a long way."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Rinoa licked her fingers hungrily, then wiped them on her shirt. The commander was still surprised by her indignity. He watched her out of the corner of his eye - watched the way her strides were long and a bit offbeat. She chewed her bottom lip carelessly while looking around with wide, wondering eyes. She lived without mind about what other's thought of her. It was a trait only Squall could imagine possessing. He had put up a mask since he was very young, presenting himself as a clean young man with the highest manners possible. It was a necessary act everyone in his family had been put through. But the girl next to him puzzled him at every corner. Her spirit was so free that pure independence could not even begin to describe what Squall saw in her.

"So," her blithe voice cut straight through Squall's thoughts. "What happened?" she tried again.

Squall looked down at her with eyes she had never seen from him before. They were still the arctic blue ice walls she was used to, but a new emotion seeped past the look of unconcern. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but its raw exposure almost frightened her.

He continued to look at her. He didn't glare... but just looked. He looked at her, into her, and past her. Try as he might, though, he couldn't touch her deepest core. Too many other bothered issues blurred his vision. The mocha irises alone gave off more complications than he had cared to see before and he had the sudden urge to know what they were. But Squall was too quick of wit to let his façade drop. He returned his eyes to the green path ahead and fixed his eyes back to empty. "You almost died," was his only reply. Rinoa was too perplexed to question more.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The sky darkened profusely before they stepped out into a grassy clearing. Squall looked up and could clearly see that night was not the only cause of darkness. Clouds large enough to house gods hung low in the air and threatened to shred apart at any moment.

"Great," Squall heard the girl mumble behind him.

Literally,' he thought. He now knew where they were. The clearing was familiar from the previous month that he and his men had traveled. The trail through the foliage must've been a drastic short cut. Luckily, the meadow wasn't far off from a small cliff of boulders.

The three continued on again, through the meadow and into the trees opposite. It wasn't long before they were brought to the boulders. Rinoa made a face of relief mixed with uneasiness. "We're going to stay here?" she asked hopefully. Squall took not of the meekness in her voice and judged her exhaustion as well as his own. He merely nodded and walked towards the boulders.

They finally came upon a group of three of four large rocks, placed in the most dangerous looking positions. One sat vertically and supported an even larger one on top of it. The other side of that one was supported by a third boulder sitting diagonally. The fourth one was placed beneath the vertical and diagonal ones, creating a crude floor. All in all, it was a small cave, shifty in appearance.

"We'll stay here tonight," mentioned Squall, almost to himself. He headed over to a large pine and pulled out a small pocked knife. He cut the reins of the mesmerize in half, allowing him to take it from behind the animal's neck. He hastily tied it to the tree trunk as new rain began to fall.

He ran back to the overhang where Rinoa waited for him. "What do we sleep on?" she pondered towards him.

Squall looked around stupidly. "Gee, I don't know, how about you go find us some mattresses," he said sharply.

"What's wrong with you?"

The brunette sat down at the far edge of the cave and looked up at her. "I've been up for the past forty-eight hours, my clothes are sopping wet with water and mud, my arm hurts from dragging you along, and I'm sore from riding all day!" he spat with a menacing glance to the mesmerize outside.

Rinoa grimaced visibly and felt a little guilty. She found herself having a sense of respect for him as well. She sat down in the deepest part of the cave and watched the rain pour outside. Come to think of it, she wasn't really tired.... just hungry.

Squall pulled off his outer coat and rolled into a makeshift pillow. He stretched lethargically on the stone floor and turned his face to the wall.

"Where are we going?" he heard a voice call from the back of the cave.

"...Across the world," he replied sleepily.

"What?!" asked Rinoa... but there was no response. Instead she sat there, listening to the rain and watching the slow, rhythmic breathing of the man before her.

()

A/N: This update came a little faster than usual... which actually isn't all that fast. Sorry for taking soooo long. And sorry for any mistakes (I'm writing this early in the morning and my brain's not cooperation too well). I appreciate all reviews and suggestions! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this!!


	10. Singing in the Rain

DISCLAIMER: I dun own nothing, ya hear?!

Well here it is, chapter 10!! Yipee-skippee! I had actually forgotten about Seifer and Selphie...oops! Thankfully, I found a corner to shove them into, so there they are. Not really, they play really really important parts. Oh, and just before you get there, a part of this chapter sounds a little like Seifer has sumthin' for Squall. THIS IS NOT TRUE!!!! I read it over and said, OMG! Seifer's sooo gay!' But all in all, I was too lazy to rewrite it, so prepare yourself! (mwhahaha, just when you thought it was safe!) It's not _that _bad...really, it isn't!

Chapter 10: Singing in the Rain

Deling hadn't lost one drop of life, despite its being captured. Civilians worked and thrived through their every day lives, surrendering themselves peacefully under the strict watch of Galbadian soldiers. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Deling _was _Galbadia. Part of it, at least. Last time he had been here, people hid within there houses and buildings, scared as mice when the Galbadian forces invaded. So the sky-high buildings and fancy technology was just a bluff, he guessed.

In a matter of months, a full capture and victory had taken place, leaving the monstrous city in the tight grip of sparse vantage points and hidden bases. Nobody would have known though, for now each house and structure shown proudly in the sunlight once again, as if never knowing the term war'. It was this innocence that brought everything back to Seifer. He remembered. His mind sparked and twisted with this new, yet known information.

He was there for the excruciating Term of Death', as it was call. The time he put out lasted nearly a year and costed nearly his life. He was sent out into the front lines in the face of defeat, inhaling the breath of Galbadia's dripping maw. The beast knew mercy, or that's at least how some people saw the act of kindness'. Had not the bases sent out survivors, then Seifer would have never made it out. In his memory everything was etched perfectly into place, despite his stolen sight.

He was one of the first captured. Blindfolded and tranquilized, the few hundred captives were dragged across scorching sands for miles on end until they reached the Desert Prison. During the time, Seifer had managed to make out all his surroundings while most others around him fell into the soothing effect of the drugs. To his great distress, the Galbadians were not willing to waste anymore morphine when they implanted the metal chip. Even to this point, it never occurred to him what was placed in the side of his neck. He rubbed the tender spot wondrously.

((FLASHBACK- - Seifer's POV))

"He's still conscious..." a shifty looking man said. He wore a heavy suit and one of those irritating Galbadian helmets which made it damn near impossible to tell one from the other. About a dozen were in the room. It's a _very_ uncomfortable feeling being here, strapped down to a cold metal dish and having everyone crowd around you talking in snide voices as if you weren't right there for them to tell it to your face.

The voices got lower until they were nearly inaudible: "Well, how about...", "...against regula...", "Perhaps...and just...", "...ask first, unlike what happened...", "...give em more!" Then there was a tremor of nervous laughter, the kind you get when you know the choice of sin would lead to certain death. A metal door slid open and the whole room grew quiet with unease.

I hear another voice, this one sharper and cutting commands like a falling cleaver. Several of the crowding soldiers gave the response "Sir" and were off to the computers that lined the walls. Their experienced fingers clicked away at the keys noisily. Footsteps.

A new man hovered over me with a posture of utmost boredom. From where I lie I can barely make out his features against the lab light shining down on me like a holy blessing. He is a basic silhouette against this makeshift heaven and I urge to shield my eyes to get a better glimpse. I struggle against my restraints, but upon failing I decide to smirk up at him. It's the smirk I have given my whole life- the one that says What? Is that all you got?' even though I'm terrified out of my wits. Then my eyes begin to adjust and I can make out few details.

I'm first brought to his eyes, the focal point of everything about him. They are a blue beyond blue that I can't even begin to describe past just being the oddest, well, blue! I feel broken glass falling from them, shredding past my barricade smirk and pressing into my deepest fears. I get this sensation of falling into oblivion and total darkness. I've never been one to loose my face and my pride, especially to another man. This is no man, though. He is a lion- tearing, feasting, and laughing with a mouth full of razor teeth and my remains. Here, at this moment, he is not laughing... or even cracking his basilisk stare. I come to the sensation that I'm just a small child under the watchful glare of a god.

He looks away and I close my eyes tightly. I've never known what it was like to be scared like that. I hope to never be again so I shakily take a breath and turn my head. Thankfully, his menacing presence leaves as he directs more barbed commands. I do not comprehend anymore, but I lay still as if I was turned to a stone with a racing pulse.

When relaxation and my confidence finally begins to return, I'm hit with a sharp needling pain in the side of my neck. Something thin and keen drives deep and my vision blurs for a moment before pouring complete darkness into my head.

All I remember from there was waking up on the streets. I wandered for about three days in another drugged state. On the third day I am awakened by a newspaper stand. Dollet Press reads one of the papers and I finally know where I am. My soldier attire is still on from back in Deling.... Deling? Why am I not in Deling?' I ask myself. I hurts to think back so I decide to instead head home....

((END FLASHBACK))

"Hey there Grump-o," disturbed a voice from behind him; a voice he learned to hate.

"What?" Seifer snapped impatiently. He quickly removed his hand from the red spot on his flesh.

"Sheesh, if you're going to be like that, then never mind."

Seifer sighed heavily, finding it the most tedious job to tip-toe around Selphie's delicate feelings to gain some fleeting knowledge. "Sorry," he whined while rolling his eyes.

"No you're not..." she began, but shut her mouth with Seifer's cautioned glare. "Anyway, I got a call from Ms. Trepe. She's such a nice person... unlike some people I know-"

Seifer gripped the short girl by the shoulders painfully and lifted her off her feet. The sentence was cut off with a squeak of protest. "You're hurting..."

"What did she say?!" Seifer nearly shouted.

"If you'd just let go-" she winced and he dropped her to the ground. "Nothing much," Selphie continued. "All she told me was that she had met Rinoa... at least she said the features and name matched, but she didn't have time to grab her."

"How the hell could she not get her?!" Seifer was now yelling loudly.

"Don't ask me!" Selphie snapped back. "I wasn't done, either. Ahem: so she couldn't get her because there was an attack from Esthar. Her and whoever she was with made it out okay, but none of the survivors were Rinoa or Commander Leonhart..."

"Who?"

"Commander Leonhart. You know, the one she was originally out to get."

Seifer crossed his arms and nodded. "Continue."

Sephie took a breath as she continued to recite: "Still, she suspects that this Leonhart guy made it out because he's done this several times before. You see, he's actually not a commander, but really a-"

"I don't care about him!" interrupted Seifer, waving his arms in exasperation.

"You know mister, this would be a lot easier if I could get it out all at once. I'm _getting _to her! Man, where was I?"

"The guy made it out alive..."

"Oh yes! So, uh, anyway, he also has two other guys he's working with. During the regrouping after the attack, she took one hostage and worked some information outta him. His name was, uh... hm... I think it started with a Z' or something. Anyway, Ms. Trepe managed to have him slip clues to a girl named Rinoa with him." Seifer's jade eyes lit up. "Also, she said they were most likely headed south of here. She didn't know exactly where because he's been using it as a private hideout for the past three years or so. The guy she was interrogating didn't even know it."

"Well that won't stop me," Seifer stated firmly.

"Figured it wouldn't," mumbled Sephie to herself. Unfortunately, Seifer's ears caught it as well.

"What? You expect me to just leave Rinoa out in nowhere in the captive of some maniac assailant?"

"He's not an assailant!" protested Sephie. "He's-"

"Doesn't matter," reminded Seifer. "We're leaving today."

"Aw, we just got here and Deling is such a pleasant place. Besides, Ms. Trepe said she would be searching too and would bring Rinoa back with her if it's within her power."

"Exactly! _If_ it's within her power. That's not good enough for Rinoa. We're going. Now."

Rinoa awoke to the sound of thick splashing rather than the warmth of sunlight. She cracked her eyes open and was painfully reminded of what had occurred the previous day. Either the fall had really bumped her head, or this rock bedding just wasn't the downy pillow she made it out to be. Crud. Still in this stupid cave, she concluded when all she saw was a stone wall.

She turned over and was pleasantly greeted with the sight of rain. Crud again. It must've been pouring all night. The forest floor outside no longer looked like it was earth, but rather a terrain that crocodiles and overgrown snakes thrived within. The tree trunks were almost three feet under and Rinoa sighed relief knowing the rocks were well above five feet of ground level.

Rinoa shakily sat up. Her head swam and she could hardly make out what was before her past the swirls and dots. "Ugh," she groaned, then rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Wait a minute? Why was she alone? Where was the mesmerize? And where in the hell was Squall?! Rinoa jumped to her feet and skidded to the hanging lip of the boulder. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.... oh thank the heavens!! There he was, far off to the right under a possessively bent tree that overhung the boulders. He was wringing his coat and shirt with his pant legs rulled up to about his knees. His boots and socks were tossed off to the side and his back was facing her. Rinoa caught herself gazing admirably at the the back of Squall's naked torso as he wrung each sleeve. Oh my,' she cooed to herself as she noted the lean muscles trailing up his sides from his waist to gather and bunch at his shoulder blades. His arms as well were finely chiseled, but still lean with lithe movements. Ack! What am I doing?' She quickly adverted her gaze and marched back into the cave.

Squall returned about five minutes after, his arms full with his boots and still-wet shirt. He wore his coat, but it was unfastened in the front to yet again reveal his sleek and well muscled torso. Rinoa caught her eyes staring again and mentally kicked herself. What's wrong with me? I've got to stopdoing that,' she scolded. "Um, where were you?" she asked innocently.

Squall looked up at her from his end of the cave where he was arranging his clothes to dry. He cocked his head to the side slightly as if he had never known she was there. Rinoa raised her delicate eyebrows expectantly. "Just out taking care of some things," he managed.

"Just out'? What, were you jumping in puddles and singing in the rain?"

Squall glanced at her with a confused expression, his brows knitted as if he had missed something. "You know," stated Rinoa. She smiled at his childlike ignorance. "Just siiiingin' in the rain, what a glooorrious feelin'..." she chimed the tune and put her hands to a shoulder as if twirling an umbrella.

"No, I don't think I do..." he returned to his organizing.

"Oh c'mon! You _have _to know that one. Everyone does!" she piped and sat up.

"Nope." He didn't even spare a glance.

Geez, he can't be this dry, can he? Where's his sense of humor? Or even his interest for that matter? All he does is organize, write, plan, organize...Ugh!' Rinoa jumped up from her seat at the back wall and stomped demandingly up to Squall. She kneeled in front of him and waved her hand before his downcast eyes. He looked up at her and she decided to ignore the obvious vexation. "What _do _you know then, hm? You certainly don't live in a box, do you?" She smiled encouragingly.

Squall was caught off guard. One minute she was in the back corner, out of his view, and the next she was mere inches from him, beaming brightly. Dammit! How did she make him want to strangle and ravish her all at once? If she kept getting so close to him, he knew it would be one of the two. Thankfully, she jumped back to her feet. "No," he tried to remember the question. "I don't know it and I don't live under a box!"

Ooh, that one hit em,' thought Rinoa. "I'm only teasing," she tried to explain. Why is it I used to be able to give him the ultimate insult and he wouldn't care for the life of him and now a simple poke in the ribs sends him reeling up the walls? Maybe I'm starting to get to him... maybe I'm just _really _annoying. Perhaps I should stop.... or...' Rinoa was back on her feet and twirling across the stone slab with a mixture of ballerina grace and handicapped sloppiness. She suddenly took a deep breath and sang at the top of her lungs:

"I'm siiiingin' in the rain, just siiiigning in the rain! What a gloooorrious feeling, I'm happy again!" She danced her way outside into the real storm drops and grinned an even brighter smile.

"I'm laaaughin' at the clouds, so dark up above, cause the sun's in my heart and I'm reeeaaady for love!" Rinoa began to make wide circles with her arms spread out. She turned her face to the sky and sung some more:

"Let the stormy clouds chase, everyone from this place! Come on with the rain, I've a grrriiin on my face!" She stopped and put her arms down. Her pale face was flushed red and she panted heavily. Still, her features glowed with pure happiness and enjoyment.

Squall had watched her, completely mesmerized. At first he had been a little shocked and irritated when she threw her voice throughout the cave. By the time she had circled herself outside, his opinion of her took a total turn. Up until now, he merely saw her as a small child, immature and trying her best to piss him off. But in one of the most adolescent acts she had made before him, it was the only one that expressed who had really grown up.

Here he had been brooding and hiding for seven years, taking life through dangerous paths and fatal decisions. He looked out onto the rest of the world and laughed at them inwardly, knowing that in the end, he would have his point shown and his last laugh laughed. Every moment was pessimistic through his eyes and he set himself up for the worst. He prepared and braced, setting up barriers and draining emotion or anything that could cause damage. Now everything was beginning to turn upside down.

Before him stood a beauty that he had never known existed. Her jet black hair was plastered around her face and her oversized clothes clung to her mature curves. Her large brown eyes stared innocently into his with more power than she probably cared to notice. But her true beauty, her true power, came from within. Her outlook on life conflicted with everything Squall had followed so strictly. Instead of closing herself up, listening only to the nagging voice in the back of her head, she opened to everyone for new ideals and expressions. Every path she took had a light; a guide. Her apparent intelligence and wisdom was utterly mistaken for ignorance and heavy curiosity. This woman, gorgeous in every way, could teach and destroy all at the same time. The power inside was beyond Squall's and had given her the upper hand the whole time. She was the beacon in darkness; the moon during night. She was the candle that the moth blindly flew to, unknowingly meeting his doom.

Squall snapped out of his revery and looked back to the soaked girl outside. "Actually," he called out nonchalantly, "I believe its I've a _smile_ on my face.'"

A/N: Whew, what a chapter. Not really, it's kinda dull. Oh well, that's all I got for it. Please please review!! Thanx!


	11. Scary Rabbits and Native Americans?

A/N: OMG people, I think I went insane. I have no idea what on earth I just typed. I closed my eyes and pounded senselessly on the keyboard. My head is about to roll of, too, so there. Um, I guess this is all I can clearly muster for the next chapter of this story. Hehehe. Don't let this chapter get to you too much, because I'm probably more lost than you… I just hope I've got the right way for this to fit into anything. I've got a couple ideas, but I'm open for suggestions on this story! Thanks and happy reading!

Tsukino Kaze

Chapter 11: Scary Rabbits and Native Americans?

_A very great vision is needed and the man who has it must follow it as the eagle seeks the deepest blue of the sky._

_Crazy Horse_

Squall and Rinoa had endured three days of relentless travel. The commander wasted not a moment before setting off again when the saturated woodland had become traversable. Rinoa followed without word or complaint, seeking comfort within her own thoughts rather than voicing an opinion that would matter little regardless.

The girl's clothes were torn nearly to shreds. Her tunic was desperately holding on by its last threads, tempting her shoulders to the brisk forest air and teetering her dignity on a pinpoint. Her breeches offered little comfort as well, these being the most soaked out of the few garments she possessed. Squall, on the other hand, had managed to keep his clothes in fairly decent shape considering the circumstances. His whole outfit was completely intact and wielded maybe only a damp spot or two.

Rinoa couldn't tell which way they were going. Her downcast eyes frequently left her lost as her guide managed to take a gazillion turns every few moments. He traveled the brush-filled roads well, taking his sweet time to check trees, rocks, or ground condition. Rinoa trusted that he knew where he was going and apparently had traveled this impossible treasure-trail many times before.

The air held foreign scents, but nothing really unpleasant. At times, especially from early dusk to well after nightfall, Rinoa caught the aroma of herbs and spices, mixed within a broth of campfire smoke. The thought disturbed her to think that her and Squall were being followed. Though she was if fact a prisoner at the time, Rinoa found comfort when moving with the troops. The wooded areas she had been through weren't nearly as dense, and Irvine always had something uplifting or teasing to comment about. Squall offered none of this, sometimes even appearing to forget her presence altogether. But he had obviously ignored the odors in the air at night and Rinoa knew that he smelled them too, so his lack of worry or interest gave her at least a little solace.

The third evening of travel Squall led both of them to a small clearing under the wide branches of several pine trees. He wordlessly stopped, put down his gear, and began to shift and organize things around. Rinoa sighed, frustrated at his continuous silence. It seemed forever since she had held a conversation lasting over two or three short words. At the start, she had had them with herself, asking questions such as "Where are we going?" or "This is kinda neat, don't you think?" … all of which were promptly ignored. By this night she was well into giving up. She watched idly as the commander shuffled through his supplies, counting out the few rations that were left and refolding the clothes he had carried along, just as he did at every stop.

'Must have anxiety or something,' Rinoa had initially thought. But she learned to stop concerning herself with his thoughts or problems, seeing as how it wouldn't have made the least bit of difference anyway. Instead, she sat near to one of the monstrous trees to watch him and fiddle around with some twigs in the dirt.

"Want something to eat?" her daze was rudely disturbed and she looked up to the source of the words. She stared at Squall for a moment before nodding silently. He passed her a ridiculously small slab of dried meat. She knew their food supply had been running low since the last two meals. Her complaints were swallowed along with the minute ration that she had be getting sick of eating the past few days.

" Shouldn't we look for food or something?" Rinoa offered instead of her usual whine. "I mean, if you're all good at everything and such, don't you know how to hunt then?"

Squall remained quiet for a long, awkward moment before settling back onto the rough dirt. The sunlight was barely visible as it passed behind some imposing mountain far off into the distance. The oranges and pinks filtered through the trees, casting eerie shadows across the clearing, making Rinoa uneasy when Squall brought his eyes up to hers. They captured the warm colors of dusk, glinting the flaming orange when the usually blue irises moved and twitched just right. His appeared threatening, and whether he meant it or not, Rinoa still adverted her own eyes to the ground. "No," he stated simply.

Gathering her courage, Rinoa took a shot at some sort of communication. "'No' to which question?"

""We're almost there, so don't worry about it. Unless you're absolutely starving?" he paused, waiting for a reply. "Well, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. And I'm gagged by this jerky we eat every stinking day! How I long for something, anything, that tastes different!"

Squall simply snorted and fixed her with another piercing stare. "Eat the bark of that tree if you want something different. I can't guarantee how much more welcoming a flavor it will have over this," he motioned to the small pack he carried with the food inside.

The sun was quick with its descent, warming Rinoa's face for only a moment before disappearing altogether. She savored the last bit of heat then gathered up the thin blanket that was hers to sleep with around her. She looked over to Squall who was now facing the other way and taking deeper breaths, but she didn't bother to lie down just yet. Instead she waited…

And then it came. The exotic smell of spices and smoke filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and took wider breaths, gathering the scent into her memory. It took her far away from this discomfort, bringing her into the welcoming warmth of a cozy hearth. Hot soup boiled over the cooking fire, its hearty broth a mixture of exquisite herbs and chunky vegetables. She could feel the spicy liquid burn her tongue, as she desired just a taste of its many flavors. She pictured herself taking spoonful after spoonful, filling her insides warm as the soup hit her stomach…

A sudden rustling of nearby bushes brought Rinoa out of her sweet reminiscence. She jumped only slightly, but her heart pounded a mile a minute. She looked over to Squall, barely able to see him in the black of the moonless night. Her hand timidly reached out to touch him; to feel his presence beside her. She half wanted him to be there, to know that she could wake him up if needed, but she wanted him to be gone; to be the one moving in the brush. Her fingertips brushed against the solid form of his shoulder, feeling his body rise and fall steadily.

Rinoa's breath relaxed only a moment, but tightened again when the crunching of dead leaves sounded through the clearing. She was suddenly aware of the presence, whatever it was, and she could feel its awareness of her. She felt dizzy with sudden fear and vomit rose in her throat as she scooted closer to Squall's sleeping form. How desperately she wanted to wake him; to just grip onto his jacket and launch him out into the wilderness at the thing like a human hand-grenade. Her cramping fingers were about to do just that when she sudden caught the realization of her own foolishness. What was she scared of? It was probably just a deer or rabbit… a huge, venomous, salivating, hungry, blood-sucking rabbit. No! No, just a deer, just the mesmerize they had released three days back.

Rinoa closed her eyes in tight resolve. 'Just a stupid animal!' she continued to scold herself. The pain of clenched muscles became almost unbearable and her arm was feeling heavy as it hovered over Squall, ready to smack him, pound his face into the ground, or yang his hair out if it meant waking him in time to save her from the savage rabbit. No, stop! No savage anything! Just something else, something…

There it was again!

The slight waving of branches behind her caught her off guard, sending her reeling to her feet. The cold air hit her bare shoulders as the thin blanket she wore slipped from her body onto the ground. She growled half out of frustration, half out of agony. Whatever was out there was causing more trouble than this was worth! If getting rid of it meant granting it her full attention, then so be it! Since when was she scared of things out in the open anyway?

Rinoa bent to her knees and scrambled for any sort of free branches or stones. Her hand grasped a rock the size of her fist as she readied herself for battle. She turned her head in Squall's direction and whispered, "Be right back." The comment was more of trying to convince herself than to the still body sprawled on the ground. With firm resolve, she marched off in the direction the creature had last been heard in.

A good ten minutes later, Rinoa had come to the decision that lack of rest and food was what really drove her out into pitch-black wilderness with nothing but a useless rock. If she even found what she was following, what was she going to do? Throw the rock blindly ahead in hopes it hit in a vital pressure point and immediately kill it? 'No Rinoa, lets just provoke it. Besides, it's gone now…' she turned to make her way back with hopes that she could pick her way to the clearing without getting lost.

But again the noise rustled close behind her.

Rinoa jumped nearly ten feet into the air. She whipped her body around and held the rock above her head in the most menacing way she could muster. But just as the other times, nothing was there. Still, Rinoa was keenly aware of the figure that must loom just beyond her line of vision. "What do you want?" she shouted, trying her hardest to keep her voice steady and powerful.

No reply.

"Stop it!" she shouted again, but failed to keep the fear out of her shaking tone. "Stupid rabbit!" She launched the rock as far and hard ahead of her, listening as it crashed into the branches and leaves. Her body froze as every nerve stopped to detect any sort of other movements to follow. It was so unlike herself to be afraid and stuck in this kind of paranoia.

Her legs wobbled as Rinoa prepared to break into a running escape, but a familiar scent hit her full throttle. It was the smell of brewing spices, poisoning her mind as she tried to stay focused. It was heavier than Rinoa had every smelled it. It made her light-headed and a bit nauseous. Her eyes watered and refused to make any use out of themselves. What little she could see was blurred into a pandemonium of pleasurable odors and careless oblivion. When she felt strong enough to move her legs, Rinoa took a step closer to the heady scent rather than back to the clearing where Squall still ignorantly lay.

Rinoa stumbled after the aroma, strangely knowing exactly what she was getting herself into, but unable to contain her actions. The fragrance pulled both at her curiosity and stark memories of a forgotten home. Her mind floated away just as it had when she first detected this air, taking her back to the comfortable village life she once knew. The brush she pushed through no longer stung her skin when branches caught, but she instead could only see and feel the wide trail well traveled by traders and merchants. Her warm, inviting home settled just over the hill, waiting with her mother for Rinoa's return.

Her pace picked up until she was at a slow lope. The trail seemed to stretch on, but she could smell the outdoor cooking getting stronger and stronger, invoking her feet to move swiftly over the dirt. Her sharp eyes caught something contrasting on the trail a she flew past. She skidded to a stop and walked back to the spot where small, bright lavender-colored flowers pushed up through the fresh dirt. 'Spring is going to be good this year,' her thoughts wandered as she delicately traced the newly opened petals on the blossom. She plucked a single leaf off the stem, excited to show her mother when she returned.

"Hey!"

Rinoa knew the voice before she seemingly even heard it. Selphie! It felt like forever since she had seen her great friend. Rinoa stood and looked out ahead to the silhouetted figure of Selphie standing at the village's edge, waving up to her. It seemed so long! With a sudden jerk, Rinoa was running full throttle down the hill toward a life she never knew she loved so much.

"Selphie!" she called waving her arms as she came closer and closer. The spicy aroma swirled around her as she leaped down the hill. "Selphie!" she wanted to just scoop her friend into her arms. Why did it feel a century since she had last seen her? Everything was so distant…

Rinoa slowed as she neared the village and her companion. Something was off; a part of the girl not five yards away felt warped. The houses behind her twisted and bent in the wind like trees on a gusty day. "Selphie?" Rinoa couldn't depict the details the girl's face. "What's happening?" the musky fragrance only helped to turn her stomach upside down. Selphie looked up to Rinoa's frightened brown eyes. She opened her mouth, but only a fumbled mixture of foreign words came out. The language was quick and blurred, harsh on the accents but otherwise just a mesh of words.

Everything began to fade…

Rinoa found herself back in the forest her and Squall had been traveling in. She gasped sharply as her knees buckled and she became sick on the foliage around her. The village, her friend, everything but that pungent odor, had dispersed to nothing. She looked up to find herself at the edge of another clearing; this one leading down a steep hill into what she could tell was a wide meadow or plain. Just before the horizon an orange light glittered from the blaze of an angry fire. Shadowy figures stood or sat around it in arranged, symmetrical positions. Just before Rinoa stood a tall man, though it was hard to make his features clear. With the starlight now visible, she could detect trees and other objects around her, but this man held on to his shadow just as if he was still hidden within the dense trees.

He simply stood straight and tall, waiting for the girl to look at him. When she did he could see firm resolution behind her frightened eyes. He smiled, but doubted she could see anyway. He spoke a few words, but they appeared unheeded by her. Either she couldn't understand or she was just tired and still slightly drugged. Indeed she had followed him through the greater part of the night, but the strength was not natural. If rest was to be hers, then she would follow.

Rinoa watched with nervous tension as the man spoke more slurred words to her. She hoped her blank expression would give him the idea. If the choice was hers, then she would have already bolted back into the safe haven of the forest darkness. The man motioned with his hand to follow him, flicking his fingers at her and pointing to the camp in the distance. When she did not react, he came up to her and gently grabbed her arm, tugging lightly.

The touch on her flesh sent Rinoa's spirit into a frenzy. Her body flew with a speed she had not known she possessed as she was back, deep within the forest again. She ran and ran. Her breath was chocked with fear and exhaustion. Her legs and arms were tinted red from the many tiny cuts she had gotten running through the brush without consciousness.

It seemed forever that she ran without stop or second thought. The pace never slowed until she felt her lungs would burst from her chest. Her legs carried her only a matter of steps after that before they gave out beneath her as would a lame horse. The fall was hard, thrusting her into stickers and stones alike. She stayed there long moments, listening for the sound of bushes moving, but she heard nothing. Slowly, everything fell away and Rinoa went into a much-needed sleep.

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It was only in the matter of hours before Rinoa woke again, but the sun was already beginning to rise. Her body felt numb and deprived of everything that seemed essential. Her eyes opened groggily, searching for anything that made some sort of sense. When she heard steps through the dead leaves, all the memories from hours before came rushing back. She tried to jump to her feet, but strong hands held onto her shoulders to prevent her escape. Her limbs lashed out as she shrieked in terror.

"Calm the hell down!" Squall yelled right at her. The girl chocked a sudden sob and covered her face with her hands. Squall noticed how filthy and bloody her exposed flesh was. "Where were you?" his voice was still harsh. Rinoa drew one hand down to her mouth, the tears still streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't see him clearly, but she was almost glad to see his familiar scowl. In fact she welcomed it with utmost mirth. She took his jacket into a vice grip and buried her face into the rough material.

Squall's frown deepened and tolerated only a moment of her relief before prying her off of him, but her grip remained strong. He furrowed his brows and looked into her tear-stained face. "What happened?" he tried to contain his frustration and give an impression of concern.

Rinoa shook her head and swallowed hard. "I'm n-not sure. Last night there was s-something in the bushes, so I thought I should go see what it was," her words stumbled over themselves. She took note of Squall's raised brow and skeptical look. "So I followed it until something… I'm not sure what… but I smelled these spices and I followed that until I didn't even know where I was going anymore…" she hesitated and only continued when Squall nodded his head in encouragement. He slowly tried to remove her hands as she talked, but she only seemed to inch closer the deeper her story got, "I was home again! Going down the old beaten trade path when I saw Selphie! I ran and ran until I got to the bottom of the hill but it wasn't her it was really this tall and scary guy who tried to talk to me but I don't know what he was saying he was like a demon or something because he spelled like those spices that I smelled the last few days and in my dreams! And he tried to get me to go to this awful camp with all these other scary people just like him but I fled when he tried to take me with him so I ran until I think me leg got stuck and I just fell and went unconscious or something!" she became frantic and tears formed in her eyes again. "I thought I was going to die!" She studied Squall's face for any signs of concern or understanding, but he just blinked slowly and grumbled beneath his breath. "Don't you even care?" Rinoa shook his jacket.

"Of course I care! But not about what you're going through," Squall rubbed his index finger and thumb to the inner corners of both eyes. "Those 'demons' or whatever you thought they were, are what we're looking for." Rinoa's expression emptied and her face went pale. "They're native here, use natural sources for medicines and such. We're looking for them to point us in the right direction and use one of their boats. Knowing you, though, they're probably all scared off now."

"…What?" was all Rinoa could manage.

"Which way did you run from?"

"There," Rinoa finally released his jacket and pointed over his shoulder into a thicket of bushes that were broken and bent from her passing. "You mean to tell me that we're going back there? After that guy tried to kill me?"

"Yes… and no, he didn't try to kill you. He probably would have offered his homage, but your genius screwed you out of that one."

"You know them, don't you?"

Squall turned and began pushing his way through the foliage where Rinoa had pointed. "You could say that. Are you coming with me or waiting for another escort?" He caught her snort as she timidly ran to catch up.

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It was about midday before Rinoa and Squall reached the clearing. Rinoa recognized where they were standing and gestured to a small band of people milling about on the horizon. "But the guy was right here," she said.

Both jumped visibly when a voice spoke from behind them. It was the man from the previous night. The girl remembered the odd language of swirled words, but Squall seemed to comprehend what the man was saying. To Rinoa astonishment, Squall replied in the same language, though choppy and slightly uneven. The man grinned broadly, his sharp white teeth glistening as bright as his eyes.

"Is this the guy you followed last night?" Squall turned to Rinoa. She nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure. "He says you run like a headless chicken," the corners of Squall's lips twitched.

"Thanks, tell him I'm surprised he knows what a chicken is…"

Squall turned back to the tall man, said a few words and both started to laugh knowingly. Rinoa fumed inside, but wasn't about to confront this man on it. He was very much taller than her and stood at least four inches above Squall. He wore only a skirt-like hide that came right above his knees. His skin was dark and copper. His long hair was pulled into a high ponytail and decorated with a bound knot of beads and feathers. He had sharp features, very much like Squall's, but his eyes were softer and by far friendlier. When he smiled it was smug and brazen, inviting a blithe duel of wits. His dark eyes were bright and observant, shining mischievously when he looked to Rinoa. She frowned under his teasing gaze.

"C'mon, we're going to make camp with them for a night," Squall motioned to the people in the distance.

"Fine, but is Sneaking Bear going to lead us, or wait for the next unknowing victims?"

"No, he will show us the way. It has been a while since I've visited these people, but they have their ways of knowing who comes into their forest."

"Ermm…." Rinoa uncomfortably followed the two men who now were fully immersed in conversation.

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The smell of spices and herbs was strong when they reached the band of slowly moving men. They were all tall and dark like the one Rinoa had already seen, but they seemed less imposing or socially aggressive. They eyed her more than they did Squall when they reached their proximities. Some whispered to another, while others shifted nervously. The man leading Squall and Rinoa spoke a few ugly words to the group and they turned back to their task at hand. Squall looked back to Rinoa and said, "Women aren't usually present during the transition ritual, but they finished last night and aren't too worried about what you may witness."

"Oh…"

"And this is Mingan," Squall nodded in the direction of their guide. Mingan looked over to her with a taunting grin. He addressed all the men and pointed to Rinoa, stating clearly for everyone to hear her name, "Keegsquaw!" There was a short pause before all the men chortled in response.

"What?"

"Keegsquaw."

"What's that mean?"

"To them, it's your name."

"Wait, what? What about you?"  
"I've already been named since the last time I was here."

"What was it?"

"Megedagik," Squall grumbled, tired of her questioning. Rinoa caught the message and decided it better to leave the subject alone. She trudged slowly along behind everyone as they made their way across the meadow and into a coastal forest.

The second day of travel with the tribe was less tense as she became more familiar with the group members. There were about ten altogether and each was as curious about her as she was nervous about them. They all came up to her at least once during the travel and tried at a conversation. Others shared scraps of fresher meat or small sweet-tasting vegetables, watching for her pleasant smile as she bit into the forgotten texture. One of the men actually came to her and began explaining something pertaining to the ritual, showing her the contents of the leather sack he held just like all the others had tied to their waistbands. Rinoa saw nothing much of interest in them, except she was hit with the now-gagging stench of herbs when he first opened the bag. Mingan had given this man a disapproving look, but didn't say anything to him. Rinoa didn't quite understand the whole situation, but she did understand the need to respect and cooperate with these people at all costs. If it meant a warm bed and normal food, she might have even killed some people.

It was evening when the group came in site of a small, native village. Huts were arranged systematically, though some were larger and more ornate. It was one of these that Rinoa and Squall were led to. Inside, the domed walls appeared to rise far higher than what they were on the outside. The floor was nothing but swept dirt and there were little objects besides a blanket or basket here and there. People, men and women alike, milled in and out of this building, setting up mats or carrying the occasional water pot. Each smiled politely to Squall but gave Rinoa a questioning glance. Rinoa was kind enough to smile back, but she adverted her eyes from most of the rude stares.

Mingan spoke little words since the second day until now. He turned to Squall and offered him a clay cup of water, which the commander took gratefully. The same was offered to his white-woman follower with the same response. He then left hastily, biting words to the women filling pitchers in the back. They quickly rose and followed Mingan out the doorway with one last glance at Rinoa.

"What's all this about?" asked Rinoa.

"Quiet," Squall snapped at her. In the doorway stood a woman in her middle years. She wore only the same skirt-like cloth as did the men, but possessed many ornaments around her neck and in her long, braided hair. She approached the two with a look of authority, yet gentleness.

"Megedagik," she smiled and inclined her head toward Squall. He did not reply until she gave Rinoa a questioning look. "Keegsquaw," he said helpfully.

"Keegsquaw!" she laughed and touched Rinoa on the shoulder with a weathered palm. "I'm glad to see you again Megedagik, for it has been too long to say. Tell me, where is it you run to now?"

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AHAHAHA! Do you feel the insanity! If you don't, go get some help. Here's a few translations:

Mingan: grey wolf

Keegsquaw: woman who is virgin

Megedagik: one who kills much


	12. Game of 100 Questions

Disclaimer: I don't own any Final Fantasy VIII characters or anything else you suspect me of stealing. I swear… I don't.

A/N: Ugh! I absolutely hate writing now. Talk about writer's block and a half. Not only that, but a new stalker has come to bite at my heels! Oh well, gotta love it though. Thanks to all of my readers who dedicate time to burning their on the computer for however long it takes you to read each chapter.

So, anyway, I read this story over again because I was just so encouraged by a certain someone (Rin Seren, and yes, I'm pointing my finger whether you can see it or not) and oh good god, there is soooo much I don't remember. That's right folks, I forgot my own story. Not only that, but it was corny too! I wanted to laugh and say 'who on earth wrote this and thought it would go well with the public?' But I did, and I'm sorry if that ancient stuff is against your religion, or if my writing now is against your religion. Well too bad, cuz I like CORN! AHAHA! Okay, so, tried to sum maybe two things up (two out of fifty-million mind you) so there you all go! I even managed to squeeze in a little Squinoa-action for you horn-dogs out there, but there's nothing sexy, so HAHA!

_Special Thanks: _Ashbear! Oh my God! You read this story//gags on own drool/ You're totally my idol of fanfiction writing! EHAHA! I think I feel tears coming. Thanks soo much and I want too see some stories from you, mmkay?

_Special Special Thank: _Ittan Momen!Hurray for review-stalker! Thanks for the constant inspiration and push forward!

_Special Special Special Thanks and Recognition for Being Most Vexatious: _Rin Seren! Yay for total-stalker. Talk about being afraid to go on aim for fear of being mauled! No, just playing, I totally love you! Thanks for pressing and pressing until I finally gave birth to Chapter 12. It hurt too! And thanks for editing it too. Readers, you need to thank her too, because you'd be lost within my grammatical crap without her! And because she didn't proof-read her own thanks, I hope there's no mestakkes! Love talking to you, too because we're both such whale penises (inside joke, hehe). Thanks for the little tidbits in this chapter too, real nice! And I still need to read the next chapter of your story /sheepish grin/

A/N X2: Wow, this is the most I've written before the actual chapter, but worry not because it's almost here! Most of you have probably given up by now anyway. I should open my own story for just 'A/N's. But enough of this nonsense. I wanted to alert everyone that someday, oh yes, _someday_, Rin Seren and I will be collaborating a story. And it will be fantazimo because she is such a gifted writer. Keep your eyes open! Now to the actual story:

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Chapter 12: Game of 100 Questions

A single man to one moment can cause catastrophic events. A single taste of ivory can forever hold dear to the treasures we so endlessly seek. Time moves, but man is faster, swift on foot and swifter in mind. Sometimes to mend a broken arm, more bones must be snapped; sometimes to run so fast into the future means stopping more often to accumulate what has occurred in the blink of an eye.

A star. A thousand stars. The expanse of the mind withholds us in its tight embrace, yet freedom to seek every answer, every question is entangled only by our own hesitant fingers.

The drop of sweat, so carelessly thrown, is a universe in the making, is life in its utmost form. Time has no meaning; size has even less.

How much time is left?

The only elements of space, that matter so little when by themselves, possess life's greatest essence when synthesized. An accomplishment means so much, despite its aura of wrongdoing or righteousness. What fraction or power of improbability is everything? _Everything_. In what way or form is it that we end up squirming into existence and leading the major chemical reaction called 'life?' In what way or form is it possible to fathom what or why? Who or when? And where? To some, the answers are held deep in the sky, within the realm of gods, tempting man's curiosity to know. To others it is the Pandora 's Box shoved into the corner of human thought, only swept of its dust and peered at from the outside when everything else has been cleansed.

It is human, we call it. It is our nature to invoke, to ask questions that perhaps we will never know the answers to. And perhaps we shouldn't.

Perhaps there is no answer.

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"I'm glad to see you again Megedagik, for it has been too long to say. Tell me, where is it you run to now?" The native woman's voice was heavily accented; the ends of her words were pronounced with slightly protruding lips. She turned to Squall and reached up a dark hand to touch his forehead lightly. She smiled at his frown, so he swallowed in an attempt to hide his discomfort.

"Yes," Squall replied calmly and closed his eyes shakily until the woman removed her hand. He intentionally ignored the question. Instead he shifted his eyes to his side, where Rinoa stood waiting patiently with an ever-inquisitive expression. She caught his glimpse and lowered her eyebrows.

"What?" she asked in a hushed whisper, as if afraid to break the trance this odd native woman had bestowed upon them. Squall's half-lidded eyes slid back closed for a moment before he blinked them open and brought his full attention back to the dark woman in front of him.

"The matter you speak of is to be held in more... _private _company," Squall added sarcastically, keeping his eyes sealed to the native.

Rinoa was more taken aback at her surprise for being surprised when Squall said this. Her dry lips cracked as her mouth gaped open for a moment before shutting again hastily. She narrowed her eyes threateningly and suddenly forgot whose presence she was in.

"Excuse me?" the words dragged themselves into every corner of the long hut. "Just who do you think you are? You can't just expect me to go... go... do something else, while you have a nice chat!" Rinoa's anger caught the best of her as she gestured wildly about. She was still hungry, damn it, and the effects of lack of sleep _and_ being deprived of food were finally catching up.

"_Rinoa_," Squall hissed, his lips curling back to reveal his sharp, white teeth. "This is _exactly_ why I don't need you here at this moment! I can't deal with your childish behavior, especially now. Go find something to do; ask someone for help, or something. Just go!" Squall's voice lifted at the end and finished in a menacing growl. When it dawned on him that the native woman had been watching with skeptical amusement, he lowered his eyes and tightened his lips until they were a thin line.

Rinoa remained firmly planted to the ground, regarding Squall with crossed arms and a resolute disposition. She spared not a strand of her attention to the native, but kept her fiery eyes burning into the side of Squall's head. Her nostrils flared in a rush of fury and she opened her mouth to speak. "You know, you are just one nasty piece of-"

"Please," the soft voice of the native cut in like a keen shard of glass and stopped Rinoa's insult short. "There is no need for confrontation. Anger will lead us to no good end," she smiled warmly and Rinoa felt her once unbreakable composure begin to slip. Squall stood by with downcast eyes, but as he listened his stubborn façade began to falter as well. The woman continued in her smooth, coaxing voice to Rinoa, "If you like, my daughter will be most anxious to meet one of your kind. She speaks your tongue better than I, for she has been to the land across the blue waters. She will teach you all you need to know before your journey continues on past our home."

"O...okay," Rinoa murmured half embarrassed, half confused.

"She should be outside by the weaving logs. Call her by Wapeka and she will know," the woman took a small breath and now focused her full attention on Squall. She said a few words in her foreign language and Rinoa took that as her cue to leave. Squall turned to look at her once more before Rinoa solemnly walked out the flap-like door.

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The air was a refreshingly cool when Rinoa stepped out into the midst of the oncoming evening. The hut had been warm and stuffy and it wasn't until the wind blew lazily across Rinoa's flushed skin that she realized just how warm it had been. The pleasure only lasted a moment though, as she realized people were hesitating and pausing to gaze at her.

'Wapeka,' she repeated in her mind, mentally getting used to the name. It would be humiliating enough to go around looking for this girl, let alone if she said her name wrong. 'By the... weaving logs?' Rinoa proved that she indeed could feel even more helpless. Where and what are the weaving logs? She bit her fingertips in dire frustration. Unfamiliar voices swirled around her and she suddenly felt as though she would be sick. But she tightened her stomach and pushed through the confusion of people and voices.

Children and adults alike stopped and stared curiously at Rinoa as she passed aimlessly through the village huts. She decided it wouldn't be too rude to just stare back at them in response. They all had sun-kissed skin that was dark and taught over their lithe bodies. Their hair was long and almost darker than Rinoa's, tied into braids or, more often seen with the women, let free. All their clothes were similar as well: only kilt-like leather pieces that reached mid-thigh. The skins were colored and painted in dull blues and various shades of reds. The children too, held exactly the same attire and attributes as the adults, but their faces were less touched by time and sun, so their skin was still smooth over their rounded faces. Rinoa felt herself falling back into time, before the days of innovation and white men. She felt oddly out of place and wanted to run and hide. She wanted to escape this place, this mistake of a dream. She wanted to go home to her mother, to her friends, to her own outdated village and hearth.

Most of the tribe members smiled or shyly looked away when they caught Rinoa's retorting gaze. A few of the men, however, stared back with equally intense stares, and some of them commented 'Keegsquaw' accompanied by short bits of laughter. Rinoa pursed her lips at this and scowled in return. Sure, she didn't have the slightest clue what they were saying, but hell if she couldn't tell when they were ridiculing her. 'Typical of men, primal or not,' she thought sourly.

"Hello," a quiet voice breathed into the air behind Rinoa. She yelped and nearly jumped out of her skin; only when she was able to convince herself that it was only a young woman like herself, was Rinoa's heart able to slow to its normal pace.

"Wapeka?" Rinoa asked meekly, in hopes of not pronouncing the name incorrectly. The woman nodded and smiled. Her lips curved in just the same way as the woman from before, who was her apparent mother. "I'm sorry, you startled me."

"It's fine," Wapeka laughed. Her appearance was much like those elsewhere in the village, save the intricate swirl of tattooed ink on her forehead and cheeks. Around her neck was a long string of beads, feathers, and a few canine teeth. Her hair was wrapped into five braids and tied at the base. Her voice was silky and easier to understand than her mother's. "I assume you're Keegsquaw?"

"I'm thinking so..." Rinoa replied shyly, ashamed of her lack of culture familiarity.

"Do not worry, your time will be soon. They say your age is too ripe, like the reininberries of summer when they are too sweet to eat," Wapeka grinned wider. Rinoa chuckled lowly, not catching the gist of the comment, but trying her best to be polite anyway. "But I have been to your land, across the blue waters," Wapeka pointed out to the west where the sun sat comfortably on the flat line of the horizon, "and the other women your age are regarded to be in their prime. Come now, I will show you the village grounds I do not believe you have seen yet."

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Wapeka's mother and Squall traversed the length of the village until they finally reached a hut all too familiar to the both of them. It wasn't very large, but was wide enough to hold about twenty people. However, twenty was a number that never occupied this structure. The hut was round and built from a mud base and woven with the tall grasses of southern plains.

The flap-door made a heavy sliding noise as Wapeka's mother pulled it aside for Squall to enter. "The others await inside."

Squall nodded and ducked his head to enter through the short doorway. Inside, the temperature was cool and brisk compared to the outside heat. The atmosphere was dark and almost damp, and the air was filled with the scent of smoke, herbs, and sweet grasses. The only light was from tiny holes cut in the top of the roof. Squall could see three elderly men sitting symmetrically around the hut, each with crossed legs and furs over their slouched shoulders. One looked up, a film over his sightless eyes, but he smiled and said in his native tongue, "Megedagik, we were hoping it was you. Thank you Miakoda for bringing him," the man tilted his head in the direction of Wapeka's mother, who had entered behind Squall.

Squall didn't reply, but rather sat across from the men in similar fashion. Miakoda kneeled beside him and folded her hands in her lap. "He has brought the other one," she said to the three silent ones.

"We know," the one to the right commented. "Why have you not brought her in here with you?"

"She doesn't know yet," Squall replied sloppily in their language.

"I see. When will you tell her then, Megedagik?"

"I... don't know. I'm not sure she's even the right one."

The man who originally greeted Squall smiled widely, showing the few teeth he had left. "What difference would it make Megedagik? The world is full of mistakes. We will learn from the wrong choices we make, no matter our age or... occupation. But I will tell you now, young warrior, she is the one you search for."

"So Miakoda has told me," Squall sighed. "But if chance that she isn't, is it worth putting her through this? I feel guilty enough for all that I've made her suffer through."

"No one can get close to you Megedagik," whispered the man on the left. His bristly white hair was gnarled and hung loosely over his closed eyes. "No one has yet to touch your soul. What is it that makes this woman different, hm?"

"I don't understand."

"We can tell you nothing that will change your mind Megedagik, but you will agree in thought if you agree in heart. Your soul has already told you there is something about the person you find necessary to complete your task, but your mind tells you differently."

"The decision will not be easy," the man on the right added. He pursed his wrinkled lips in thought, then reached in front of him to an aged relic of silver metal and stone that sat half covered in the dirt. His fingers smoothed over its cracked surface and then he rose it before his blind eyes, appearing to examine it. He gave a quick nod and handed it to the next man, who put it to his lips and tasted it. When the third and final man received it, the relic was blessed by mumbled words and handed carefully to Squall. The commander slipped it into his coat as the first man to touch the relic spoke: "You have chosen and we have confirmed. The mind is skeptical enough to stop the soul, but only disastrous outcomes, whether you are aware or not, will be. Follow your initial instincts, and the flow of events will be virtuous over your desires."

Squall nodded silently, but did not verbally reply.

"So you run now, like every time. We will grant you swift passage over the blue waters, but first you must tell us of what you have seen..."

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Rinoa had followed Wapeka for the greater part of dusk until night. She had been shown the village center, where there was a wide clearing of hard dirt, used for dancing and ceremony. She had also seen the huts specialized for gathering of men, the ones for gathering of women, the ones for the gathering of elders, the ones for children to listen to stories, the ones for just a man and a woman, and the ones for family living quarters.

When the sun had withered away completely and the moon rose just high enough see beyond to snowcapped mountains, Wapeka guided Rinoa past several huts until they approached one that was imposingly larger than the others. It didn't catch Rinoa until they were inside that it was the hut she had started in when she came with Squall. She glanced around, but Squall and Wapeka's mother were nowhere to be found.

"Where did your mother go?" Rinoa asked from across the hut as Wapeka gathered herbs, dishes, and hanging meats from along one of the walls. Wapeka ignored the question and instead came back and handed Rinoa the supplies.

"You must be hungry. We will eat now," Wapeka smiled cheerfully. Rinoa bit her lip, but not out of hunger as much as confusion and, though she didn't want to admit it, worry. She decided she would bring up the question later, perhaps when there was less stress in the air.

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The sky danced with life that night. The stars stretched beyond the corners of the black-canvas sky and held dimensions above the village, some appearing as close to the earth as the looming moon. Rinoa sat with Wapeka on the outskirts of the village on a small patch of new-grown grass. Wapeka had set up a cozy fire on the inside of fist-size stones that appeared to have embraced the flames here many times before. A strange funnel-shaped stone only about the length of a fingertip wide and as tall as an outstretched palm, sat close around the flames with strips of red meat draped over its edges. The familiar aroma of herbs and spices filled the night air.

"This is my favorite spot to be when time has slowed just right," Wapeka's voice was so quiet that Rinoa could only hear it because the wind carried it to her ears. "I exist between my village and the land across the blue waters, but I am whole under the sky." Rinoa listened respectfully as she sat on the inviting seat of grass below her. Wapeka's whispered words took Rinoa elsewhere. She closed her eyes to listen and felt the chants of a million-year-old tribe engulf her. "Where do you come from?" Wapeka's voice grew bolder.

"North of here, in a village about the same size as yours," Rinoa smiled as memories washed over her. "I had my favorite places to stay as well. I would sit there sometimes and wish with all my heart that tomorrow I would be far, far away; that I could be away from home. And now I've finally gotten my wish, but I somehow thought it would be better than this."

"Mmm," Wapeka sighed in response and looked over Rinoa's shoulder into the flat land of the plains where it eventually met the sea. "It is good to leave home and it is good to have wishes. But we have these urges so we can learn the way back to our own land and the way back to our hearts."

"I don't understand..."

"Here, eat first," Wapeka gathered up two round bowl-like dishes and put a few slices of cooked meat into both. She then grabbed a small leather pack she had brought with her and pulled out two smaller pouches. Rinoa could smell how strong the herbs were directly from the pouches and watched in dazed comfort as Wapeka sprinkled some into the bowls. She next took a bowl of water she had brought with her and poured enough into the dishes so they were half filled. The water sizzled and cracked in protest to bathing around the steaming meat. Wapeka offered the bowl to Rinoa, who hesitated momentarily before graciously taking the offered food.

"What is this?" Rinoa felt a bit rude asking the question, realizing it sounded more like being suspicious of what meat it was rather than the herbs.

"It is good for your soul," Wapeka reached into her pack again and pulled out a flat, round chunk of bread. She folded it twice and pulled it into two halves, handing one to Rinoa.

By Rinoa's judgment, the meal was absolutely delicious. The tender meat melted in her mouth, soaked within the soup of rich spices and exotic herbs. The bread was sweet and light, the crust crumbling in Rinoa's hands if she was not delicate enough with it.

Wapeka decided to continue her conversation while Rinoa finished her food. "My people say that every spirit has a star, and that every star has a spirit. When we die, our spirit is free like the eagle and can fly to touch the star. From young children we are taught that our star is our destiny. In some way or another, we are going to eventually touch that one star. But then our spirit falls like a rock and returns to the earth that made us. We become 'life' again and must turn our heads up to look back at what we have just touched; what we have just become so close to having. It is the endless cycle that forever moves us and forever pushes us forward," Wapeka paused and turned to smile at Rinoa, who was listening intently.

"When I went to the land across the blue waters, I learned of your people and what they thought of the world. I remember one man spoke of how as 'one' and as mankind, we will reach the stars. Others said we already have. But I asked them all if they have _touched_ the stars, and they say 'no, it is impossible.' But it is not impossible," Wapeka glanced from the sky to Rinoa again. "Perhaps your people are right; perhaps we can't touch the stars. But my people say that only when we have lived our lives to their full potential, will we be able to touch our star.

"I think that when we have reached that point in our lives, we will dwell in full happiness, knowing that we will touch our star someday. But my people live in a time that this world has forgotten, and the New People have forgotten us with the world. Your people can no longer touch their stars because they have forgotten how to live life to its full meaning," she sighed and moved closer to Rinoa as if to tell her a secret not even the grass in the ground could know. "The elders warn the children that if you fall back to the earth enough times without touching your star, you become so focused on just trying to touch it the next time, that you do not remember how or why you do it in the first place.

"That is forgetting. I fear this world can't remember, and when that is gone, how do we live? What do we look to? What fulfillment of happiness can we find?"

Rinoa set her bowl down silently in the grass and thanked Wapeka when she reached over and took it. "I've never heard such a theory before," Rinoa commented. "I've only heard of the gods that live in the heavens and we will be granted happiness if we please them in our lifetime."

"Keegsquaw, have you every touched a star?"

"No..."

"Have you ever been happy in your heaven?"

"Not that I know of..."

"I will tell you one more story of my people," Wapeka lied out beside Rinoa and let her dark eyes reflect the shimmering stars in the sky. "I remember when I was little I listened to stories with so much enthusiasm, that I believed all that was told to me. I believed the trees and rocks could sing; I believed the eagles in the sky carried messages and wishes to wherever they belonged; I believed once that we were the only people on this earth.

"But I'll tell you what; going to the land across the blue waters really opened my eyes. There are so many different people, different things, different beliefs. So what made mine right and theirs wrong? What if _I_ was the wrong one? It helped me to realize my own life and my own person," she tapped her naked chest and licked her lips. "Keegsquaw, you say this journey has not been what you've wished for, but maybe it is. Maybe you just haven't gotten there yet. Maybe this is just what you need, because without agony, how can you appreciate what is good in life?"

Rinoa closed her eyes for a long moment, forcing herself to swallow whatever lump was suddenly locked in her throat. "I wish it was as easy for me to look at it as it is for you..." Rinoa breathed. "It's not like I don't enjoy moments of what I'm going through, but I was just caught off guard... and now I have no idea if I'll be able to go back. I wonder every night if I'll see my home again, if I'll ever be with my friends, if I'll live to see tomorrow," tears welled up below Rinoa's chocolate irises.

"It is not easy for any of us. I was in the same position you were, if not worse, but I always knew home was right below my feet... and whether I was ever able to make it back or not, I knew I would return to the earth and come home," Wapeka took one more lingering gaze into the sky above her before she stood and offered Rinoa a hand up. "It's getting late and the fires are going out," Wapeka smiled at Rinoa reassuringly. "Megedagik and my mother are probably wondering where we are."

"Oh yeah, where were they today?"

Wapeka paused from gathering the food supplies. "You are a curious one aren't you? What is so important that you must know?"

"Because I don't find it very fair-"

"Life is not just."

"True, but if I'm going to be dragged along with Squa- Megadagik for who knows how long, stranded away from home, and starved for random periods of time, I at least deserve to know what's going on and what his motives are! I'm tired of being treated like dirt when it wasn't my decision to come along anyway..."

"Perhaps there are questions about _you_ still needing answers, hmm?"

"What? No, there are questions about _Squall_ that still need answers," Rinoa replied almost bitterly as she helped collect the rest of the bowls.

Wapeka smiled, but it was obviously forced. "I will tell you to the limits of my permission, but that is all." At Rinoa's eager nod she continued, "Megedagik, as you have clearly noticed, is not a first-time visitor to our village. I cannot recall all the times we have seen him in and out of our presence. He is man of many mysteries and many problems that follow in the conclusion of those mysteries. He is more than he seems and believe me, you're lucky to have gotten on his better side." Wapeka and Rinoa began to slowly make their way back to the village warmth.

"Anyway," Wapeka went on, "I cannot tell you for sure what I know about him, because he still eludes me as well. Every time he comes here, he speaks with my mother and three other of our most respected elders at the hut I showed you for secret gatherings.

"It would burden my respect and reputation as my mother's daughter to be caught eavesdropping on such a private discussion, so I have no idea what they talk about. But I have heard rumors- dark rumors that scar Megedagik's past."

"What are they?"

"I do not know if I believe them myself, so I do not want you to get the wrong idea about him, especially if you must be by his side for some time yet. I know what it is to fear the unknown, but sometimes the known is worse in itself," Wapeka laughed lightly to lift some of the tension as they neared the village. "Just know that a man must not be judged before you know his life. That is why my mother talks to him, and whether she helps him in the long run or not, she does all she can at arms' length right now."

"What do you mean?"

"We will get you to the land across the blue waters, and we will supply you with the necessities you need for survival until you cross the next civilization. Your trek will go unnoticed, like a crow in the clouds of a rainstorm."

"Do you have any idea where he's headed?" Rinoa asked nervously.

"We never know where Megedagik's feet take him, but he tells us what he has seen every time he returns. That is why he is so accepted here, for he is our link to the outside world--"

"Wapeka! Keegsquaw!" Wapeka's mother approached the two younger women coming in from the fields. "It is late and Megedagik wishes to leave tomorrow."

"But he always stays a day or two-" Wapeka began to argue.

"No," Miakoda nearly snapped, "It is tomorrow and it will be so. I hope Wapeka has not kept you up too late?" she turned to Rinoa.

"Not at all, we had a nice time."

"That is good," Miakoda stated half in english, half in her native tongue. There was no smile on her face, but she regarded Rinoa gently. "We will dress you appropriately tomorrow, but now you must go to Megedagik's tent to sleep!" she urged Rinoa with her rough hands to follow her.

What?" Rinoa wasn't sure she had heard correctly. She had indeed spent the night with Squall in his spacious military tents many times, but she was frightened when Wapeka's mother kept gesturing to one of the smallest huts. Rinoa turned to Wapeka with panicked eyes. The native simple shrugged and grinned.

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Rinoa, under the approving gaze of Wapeka's mother and several other broadly grinning men, pulled the heavy leather doorway aside and peered inside. The hut was in fact even more cramped than it appeared from the outside. It was dark and the only light cast in was the warm glow from dying embers in nearby fire pits. Squall was already stretched out across one side, partway under a fur blanket. He was under the shrouding shadow of the door-flap, so Rinoa couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

With one last glimpse behind her in a desperate search for Wapeka's solacing smile, Rinoa stepped in and let the flap slide closed behind her. Darkness consumed her vision and she was forced to stumble around to find her bed setting that was next to Squall's. When she did find it, she wasted no time in throwing the pelt over her small form. It was deliciously warm and soft, so Rinoa was confident that she would have no problem falling asleep.

But vexatious questions and prickly thoughts kept her from her much-desired rest.

Rinoa flipped onto her back, lost in thought as she stared up through the hole cut into the top of the roof. She could see a few stars winking down onto her and thoughts traveled back to all that Wapeka had explained. It made sense, but Rinoa found it difficult to grasp the surrealism of it. But perhaps there was a deeper figurative meaning to Wapeka and her people. 'Maybe I am being too negative about this whole thing,' Rinoa's mind twisted throughout a labyrinth of confusion. Wapeka had said there were questions about her; questions that appeared to correspond to Squall.

Rinoa turned again onto her side, this time facing the back of Squall. His form was barely outlined by the florescent glow of the moon and stars. She remembered back in such similar circumstances when she would watch him rest from far across the military tent, but at those times her inquiring thoughts had been much different. She had asked so many questions to everything, but nothing seemed to be answered. Only more and more mystery piled between her and the world in which she was dragged through.

Sometimes Rinoa would wonder why she hadn't run yet. She had been proposed with many opportunities to escape, but she had always turned a blind eye to it, pretending, even to herself, that she did not see it. What compelled her to stay; to travel by the side of some huge enigma in itself and be thrown full force into peril? Why was it she was so scared to be in this predicament, but feel even more frightened to return to the nostalgia that bothered her so? Why was it that no matter how intimidated by this Squall-character she was, he was always her source of comfort, despite the fact that she was in this mess because of him in the first place...

But was it really him that was the result of her being here? It had been her choice to go meddling with affairs not within her league or specialty. He had even given her the freedom and time to escape if it was so much desired.

The past few days these questions had disturbed Rinoa to no ends. She was beginning to suspect it was her own fault she was here. Maybe it was still her restless sense of adventure that sent her outward, regardless of the consequences. But why was she always so regretful then?

Squall shifted in his sleep, breaking Rinoa's train of thoughts. She watched his outline until his breathing elongated and became steady again. Who was this man who slept right next to her? Where was he going? What was it that he did some time ago that seemed to leave his crossing everywhere? Why was she becoming a part of him and the mystery he carried? Why had he done a lot of things? Why had he invaded her village only to run to Trabia? How did he know Trabia's leader so well and was Squall the reason the city was attacked? How did he practically know his way through the forests blind and why did he always return to this village according to Wapeka? What was so important that he withstood the attention of Wapeka's mother and the other elders? And most difficult to perceive, why was Rinoa a part of this? Why was she, alone, kidnapped? Why was she saved only to be dragged along as a burden? Where was this all leading to? What part did Squall play in connection to her own?

It must have been at least half an hour that Rinoa speculated about these fleeting thoughts before she became desperate for reasoning. She studied Squall for a long moment; he had taken everything away, yet offered her her childhood wishes, whether he knew it or not. She was stuck with him until the end of this whole dilemma, so she figured she had better learn to get used to his grouchy, pessimistic, antisocial behavior as soon as she could.

Quietly, not quite sure of what she was doing, Rinoa shifted closer to Squall's sleeping form until she could reach out with one finger and touch his back. She felt a shiver run through her spine, even though she was under the fur blanket and within range of Squall's body heat. She stared at the back of his head in blank consternation, as if she could suck out the answers if she simply looked hard enough. Swallowing her fear and putting up an indifferent barrier, Rinoa murmured his name barely above a whisper.

There was no response.

"Squall?" her voice was still timid, but a little louder than her last attempt.

"Hm?" came a groggy voice.

"I have a question," Rinoa stated resolutely. "Actually, I have a lot of questions."

"What?" Squall's voice was still broken with sleep, but Rinoa could already detect his irritation. "You have all day tomorrow and probably lots of time after that to ask all the questions you want."

"But I want to ask you now..."

"Why now?" There was more desperation present in his voice than anger.

"I don't know, I just want to."

"_Fine._ What is it?"

"Why did you save me?" Rinoa's voice was only a breath of words. Squall didn't answer or even move for a long time and Rinoa began to wonder if he had heard her.

"Will you just go to sleep?" he finally replied. Rinoa almost expected this.

"But why didn't you just leave me? I mean, I don't think I was conscious at the time, but I'm sure it would have been easier to just leave..."

"Go. To. Sleep!"

"I thought you were going to answer my question..."

"No," Squall was becoming frustrated, "I asked what it was, but I never said I'd answer it." He let out a long sigh. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

"I guess so, but I'll probably just get the same answer."

"Whatever..."

Rinoa chewed at her bottom lip and felt the familiar knot build up in her throat. Her world began to fall apart as she felt helpless to find any of the answers needed to support its foundation. It was odd for her to think her only real solace in the world right now was also the very source of all her agitation. Without thinking about what she was doing, Rinoa shifted even closer to Squall until she was very lightly pressed against him. It was almost surprising how much alleviation she received by such a simple action. She rested her forehead at the base of his neck and felt his body go rigid for a moment. She suddenly feared he would throw a fit about her close proximity, but her breath softened when she could sense him fall back into his peaceful relaxation. A single tear ran down her cheek and onto Squall's flesh before Rinoa slipped away into a peaceful slumber.

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A/N X3: YAY! Another chapter, another missed night of perfectly good sleep. Hope you enjoyed it, and I know, 'what the hell!' I feel it too people! I don't know where this is going, but have faith that I'll find enough string to tie this all together… some day. Anyway, R and R please! Thanks again to Rin Seren for all the help and being annoying and such! Whoop!


	13. A Whole New Species

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or game settings from Final Fantasy VIII. Stupid Square…

A/N: Hullo everyone! Oh my gosh, I'm really beginning to focus on this story more than my other ones… poor neglected stories. Haha. Sorry anxious readers waiting for Evading Truths update. I'll try to do that one next! Yay!

Sadly, and surprisingly, I have nothing to say about this chapter coming up… except that I just glanced and the mirror and I'm lookin' pretty homeless right now. Oh! And I'm eating a cherry!

Chapter 13: A Whole New Species

The breeze was cool as it flew across the lush plains of a mid-spring afternoon. It rustled in through the distant trees and carried a tune similar to wooden flutes and weary voices of ages past. Rinoa tilted her head into the wind, relishing how her dark locks felt being pulled off of her damp neck. Sweat beaded across her brow and ran irritably down her neck and in between her breasts, where it itched mercilessly. She dared not reach down and paw at it like an animal. Instead she would pause often to press her shirt daintily to her chest and hope the material soaked up the wetness.

It was unbearably hot today, and the trail to be traveled looked promising to be even warmer with no available shade. Rinoa dragged the back of her palm across her forehead then wiped it on her new doeskin breeches. They fit comfortably if not being just slightly too long. The bottoms were rolled up to her knees so her bare feet could trudge freely though the wet mud and reeds. The murky water was little relief from the pressing humidity. Her tunic was simple like the skin breeches, being sleeveless and tying up at the center with strips of hide. The light material was easy to bear and gave her clammy skin a refreshing gust now and then.

"C'mon, we're almost there."

Rinoa's mouth gaped slightly for breath in the heat as her eyes locked with the commander's cold stare ahead of her.

"Don't cheap out on me now. You've made it this far… you can make it the rest of the way too," Squall's breath was labored as well, for every time she paused, he kept pulling. His left hand was clasped tightly to the wooden rim of a small canoe-like boat, only a few yards long, but seemingly heavier than the tree it was carved out of. Both he and Rinoa had pushed and pulled their way from the outskirts of the native village to the bank of the river, where ankle-deep water and short cane reeds shot up from the soft sand.

Rinoa shifted her weight onto one foot and rested her hands on her hips, taking a puff of air. "Do those natives have to go through this every time they want to go somewhere?"

"I doubt they go anywhere often," Squall replied, setting down his half of the boat and grabbing his ripped military coat that was draped over one of the edges. He shook it out over the water then buried his face in the material, dragging it slowly down his drenched face.

"Well I'm sure this will much easier without all this junk piled in the boat," Rinoa said, happily distracting her eyes from following his movements as he used the coat to wipe his neck and bare arms. However, she caught it out of the corner of her eye and knew her actions hadn't gone unnoticed when Squall offered her the coat when he was done. She contorted her expression to disgust and shook her head quickly.

Squall made a curt noise somewhere between a laugh and a 'humph.' The whole while he had been tempted to strip himself from the confinements of his old, white tank shirt, but he could already sense Rinoa's discomfort. Squall had initially wondered at her surprise when she saw he only meant to wear this and a pair of rolled up military pants. She was apparently more innocent than he had thought, especially judging her reaction from the incident this morning…

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The evening had been cold enough, but just past the brink of midnight, the humidity had crept across the village from the river and the surrounding forest. Its heaviness weighed in through the huts, the holes at the tops doing little to filter fresh air.

Rinoa had fallen asleep soon after she had found a comfortable position against the back of Squall. The commander had absolutely no trouble himself with falling back into slumber after Rinoa's vexatious interrogation. Squall was usually less irritated than he seemed while she asked her questions during the traveling, more happy to just know she was alive and still somewhere not far behind. He wasn't quite giddy, though, when she was still up like a chatterbox when he had finally conquered some of his ever-present insomnia. Thankfully she had found some solace along the way of his bickering responses and he was able to catch the blessed slumber he had nearly lost.

As early morning engulfed the hut with the heat and moisture in its wake, Rinoa soon found her position so close to Squall not as relaxing as it had been only hours before. In a tussle of heavy fur pelts and overheated bodies within the cramped confinements of the hut, Squall found themselves quite oddly intertwined when dawn finally broke.

The commander had woken first, blinking away a fading dream and finding a very rumpled Rinoa strewn across his abdomen horizontally. Her torso was face-down across the bottom of his ribs; her head turned just so much away from him so all he could see was a tangled mass of black hair. Her right arm was curled in his shirt above his hip bone to keep from sliding forward while her other arm was haphazardly under her head with her knuckles resting again the fur mat on the opposite side of Squall. The remainder of her body was slung across her own pallet and appeared to be painfully twisted. Her legs were bent fully and balled up against Squall's thigh, her knees digging painfully into his flesh. Despite her awkward and awry position, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Squall on the other hand was just beginning to notice just how painful her knees were becoming and how that leg was fully asleep and numb. He tightened his lips in frustration and argued with himself to either wake her or just throw her out the door. He thought better of it however, remembering what trauma she had gone through the past month or so and was thankful she was at least getting some sleep to prepare her for the work ahead of them. He didn't know how long it had taken her to fall asleep the night before, knowing well that she could have been up all night while he unmindfully fell back to his dreaming.

But Squall was still unwilling to put up with the pain she was causing in his leg. He needed her off of him at least to where he could turn over and get a couple more hours of rest. Gently, as best he could not to wake her, he grabbed Rinoa's shoulders and lifted her slightly to where he could sit up better. He gasped lightly out of relief when she moved easily and pulled her knees out of the burrow they had created in his leg. He judged that she was still significantly underweight and let his eyes inspect her neglected body as he set her to rest on her back as she had originally been when at the start of the previous night. Her breathing continued easily and steadily, suggesting she was still asleep. Squall moved her arms to be comfortably set atop of her chest, but paused when he saw the width of them. He could all too easily wrap his hand fully around her tiny wrist and even barely touch his fingertip together around her bicep, which shouldn't have been possible without squeezing if she had been in health proportions.

Squall knit his brows in concern and in somewhat a feeling of guilt. He had been a commander of thousands of men and had always kept close enough watch to depict their stress, weight, and health levels. He had dealt with plenty of men in ill and sickly status and could easily determine their being underweight or not. However, he had never before worked with the female anatomy and could clearly feel his inexperience while he examined Rinoa's sleeping form. He of course knew women were much smaller and more fragile than men, but he wasn't sure quite how thin the breaking point was on women as far as malnutrition. He had never really 'handled' a female emotionally or physically before Rinoa and it was clearly pulling some strings, pushing some buttons, and expanding his knowledge of the female race. While he had spent his whole life immersed in atmospheres of strength and testosterone, Squall had never realized what kinds of emotional baggage a human mind could posses. The life he had been living to seal himself behind a wall of indifference was in every way defied by this one female of curiosity, expression, and more emotions than ever thought existed. Sometimes Squall pondered that if all women were as annoying and talkative as Rinoa was sometimes, he would happily die a single man.

Squall had indeed studied the woman anatomy and behavior in his classes as an early teen. He had learned their basic structure, process of estrogen, and monthly menstrual cycle, which Squall was still not sure how Rinoa was handling whenever it came along. Even with all his experience, knowledge, and military instincts, he felt completely ignorant and helpless at this very moment. He remembered somewhat that women were suppose to have somewhere around ten percent body fat to be in health conditions, and Rinoa was certainly way under that. Squall narrowed his eyes when he scanned the girl's form again. He knew she complained about being hungry, but when _wasn't_ she complaining about something? He had been hungry too and Rinoa wasn't an avid complainer about being famished, but more about 'where are we' and 'where are we going' questions that Squall still had to look forward to answering, especially after he said he would the night before.

'Maybe she has some sort of disease?' Squall's heard skipped a beat at the thought, but he shook his head. 'No, she would have showed other symptoms.' This vigorous traveling and the conditions were new to her and her body just needed time to adjust. Every soldier went through it…

But she wasn't a soldier. She was suppose to be his captive and he wasn't suppose to care, but somewhere along the way she had transitioned herself to the status of companion, no matter how much Squall was unwilling to admit it. He showed it to nobody, not even Rinoa, but he knew the depths of his concern for her. Sometimes he wished he could just launch her off a cliff, but she was his responsibility and he had tasks to finish before she could so easily be let out of his careful surveillance. She was one of the most vital parts to his plan, and he'd be damned if he'd let anything happen to her. At least that was his excuse every time worrisome thoughts crossed his mind.

Squall sat up straighter and carefully stretched out Rinoa's arm. It was definitely thin. He lightly moved his fingers up to her shoulder, feeling to end of her clavicle pulling way too taut against her pale skin. The commander let out a long breath and looked to see Rinoa's slumber-filled features before touching his fingertips just below her right breast, running them down her side softly to feel how defined her ribs were even through the thick clothing. If she had been a man, Squall would have lifted her shirt to see the sunken torso himself, but he figured it safer to just make an estimate from outside the clothing. Once again, the area was far underweight. Does she not eat? He wondered. I've had the same rations as her and I've maintained myself well enough…

Squall's military instincts took over his sense of gender morality as he dared his hands to venture to Rinoa's hips. He was too intent on the task at hand that he hardly noticed her rustle in her sleep. His fingers feebly lowered the corner of her baggy pants until the protruding hipbone was revealed. He ran his thumb over the thin flesh, examining its steepness with concern.

A sudden gasp froze Squall in mid-action.

Rinoa had been stirred from her light sleep from the light caress down he side. She adjusted slightly before trying to settle herself back into a dream again. But the next stroke on her skin brought her to an abrupt awareness. Her eyelids fluttered open swiftly and she felt her heart stop. There was Squall, half dressed and heavenly shadowed by the few rays of orange light that crept through the hole in the hut's roof. Though her heart stopped at the ethereal sight of him, she sucked in a breath of air rapidly from the way he was leaning over her flustered form, hand resting lightly on her hip. Her wide eyes caught his unwavering gaze as he stared at her as though he was doing nothing out of the ordinary.

Squall _did_ in fact believe that he was doing nothing out of line. He didn't mean to wake her, but that was for purposes that she needed rest, not that she would be even so disturbed by him touching her like this… right there… while she was asleep. Her eyes first read of shock, then confusion, and finally fear.

"Wha… what are you doing?" her voice was tentative as she bent her arms to her chest and leaned away from his invading touch.

Squall furrowed his eyebrows at yet another question then arched one high as he slowly pulled his hand away. His mind came back from the military standards and began to realize that perhaps the inspection had been a little intimate. "You're body weight is quite low… even for a woman."

"Oh… okay," Rinoa lifted herself into kneeling position, keeping her eyes cast to the ground and hoping Squall couldn't see the blush that she could feel spread across her cheeks. "I probably could've told you that."

"Have you been eating all your rations?"

'Why is he making normal conversation? I think I need some fresh air.' "You mean salted beef and stale bread? I think the birds I could've fed would be skinny too."

"You fed the food to animals?" Squall almost sounded angry.

"I didn't say—"

"It was implied," Squall interrupted. A silence filled the hut for a few long moments, Squall staring hard at Rinoa as she fiddled with some threads coming off her shirt.

"Rinoa…"

The girl looked to Squall as if he had just stated he was a flying monkey. His voice was barely audible, but there was something foreign in it… almost pleading. However, his eyes held none of this emotion and stared coldly at her. "What?" she whispered.

"Do you ever want to see your home again?"

"Yes…" Rinoa felt her chest tighten and her eyes begin to sting, though she wasn't sure why.

"How would you feel if they knew you had just given up? Just died?" Squall's voice had turned to stone again.

"What do you mean?" Rinoa was feeling spite start to boil as her attitude took a turn to defense. "Are you saying that I've just given myself up as your captive?

"Squall, I wish just one day you could stand in my shoes. It's probably not as easy as you think," she snapped.

"Rinoa." Squall threatened, not liking her tone.

"What! What? Just shut up, right? I'm talking too much now. You can't stand the way I am, asking this and that about everything. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and jump into things blindly, hm? Well Squall, I'm glad _you_ know what's going on!"

"_Rinoa_."

"No. I know already. I just don't care anymore. Do with me what you will. Tell me when you're done so I can go find home! So I can make my way back through the labyrinth you've led me through," Rinoa felt warm tears running down her cheek. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands, screaming, "I DON'T CARE! Not anymore…"

"RINOA!" Squall roared. He immediately felt bad when her only reply was the shuddering of her shoulders as she silently sobbed. Had he not just admitted to himself that she was under a lot of stress? That her health was ebbing? That he was being too harsh on her? "Rinoa, listen to me," he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Rinoa…." He swallowed the unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm sorry."

Rinoa's sobbing paused, but tears still fell freely. She stared at the ground between her legs, resting her forehead on her knees. She watched them run to the tip of her nose and fall to the ground. It was hypnotic.

Squall's words finally registered in Rinoa's mind. He had just apologized to her. She wasn't quite sure if she was expecting that. No, she wasn't. What she was expecting was a lecture, a complaint, or just silent brooding. She didn't know why, but she felt pangs of guilt. She had put herself into this position in the first place, and here she was, blaming Squall for all her troubles. Rinoa finally lifted her head and shyly looked at Squall, who was staring at her with a mixture of expectancy and something else she couldn't depict. "I'm sorry, too," she breathed.

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"We're going to need every last bit of it. Especially since there are two of us now."

Rinoa wasn't really listening to him, too hot and lazy to really give a damn. "Yeah," she replied without knowing what she was answering. Her eyes had caught something in the pocket of Squall's coat as he set it back down in the boat. She waited until he turned around to survey the landscape.

Rinoa leaned forward and stealthily let her fingers slip into the pocket and retrieve the metal object. It was old and cracked slightly at the bottom. She wiped the excess dirt and debris off with her thumb, getting a better look at what it actually was. The object was thin and smooth. It appeared to be carved in the shape of an animal's head… a lion if she was correct. She had heard of these creatures before: large, elegant, brave, and not to be messed with. Rinoa pursed her lips, she wasn't sure if these animals even existed anymore. Glancing closer, she could see the artifact was broken below the head. It could easily have been from wear, for the object seemed to have been centuries old. "Squall, what is this?" she asked, taking the chance that he wouldn't be angry with her for taking the metal relic from his coat.

Squall looked back at her, shielding his eyes from the bright sun to peer at what was in her hands. "Where did you find that?" he wondered if he had dropped it while using his coat as a towel.

"I'm sorry, I saw it in your coat and was just curious."

Curious. She was always so curious. "Just a scrap of old silver. Don't lose it," he cautioned before turning back and grabbing his half of the boat. "Are you ready yet?"

Rinoa nodded before putting the artifact safely back into Squall's coat. She sighed and took up the other side of the wooden craft. She vaguely wondered if it really was _just_ a scrap of silver.

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A/N: Okie-dokie! I can't believe I just typed all this. Sorry if this chapter seems a little short… maybe it's not… I don't know. I really wanted it to end further along; I got carried away during the flashback. Oh well. I'll save it for another chapter.

Yeah, and sorry if Rinoa's being a real cry baby. It's kinda annoying isn't it? I think I'm really gonna change her attitude. Anyway, Read and Review please!


	14. Table for Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII. I DO own my shirt. You can't have it.

A/N: Sorry all for the longest gaping hole in between updates ever! I've been having technical difficulties with this story... major difficulties. Rin Seren has helped me throw some ideas into a boiling pot of destruction, so now I'm doing some patching and new formulating. If it wasn't for her, you'd probably all think this story was crap by the time it was finished. Seriously. Even I knew it (but was unwilling to fix it until recently, as stubborn as I am). So now I'm getting myself out of some old habits and I'm trying to focus on fixing this whole thing up. So yeah...

Once again, I thank Rin Seren for your help, advise, and determination to be my backbone... cause I'm all wobbly like that. YAY! Go editor! Go idea thrasher! YAY! Just messin on the last one... ehe...

And thank you of course all my other wonderful reviewers! I love you all! You've made this project so much more fun and important to me! Without you all, I wouldn't be in this horrible mess.. I mean, er... I wouldn't be having so much fun... pulling my hair out to post these misleading chapters. Yup!

(OMG! HARRY FREAKIN' POTTER IS COMING OUT! AHHAHAHAHAHHA!)

cough sorry...

This is probably the longest chapter of my life! Really, it's kind of two chapters put into one and you can thank Rin Seren for the extra length at the end and some of the ideas (I won't tell you which... because then I'd be ruining my hard work for you... haha). BUT, if you ARE Rin Seren, you know what really belongs to you.

Chapter 14: Table for Two

Rinoa may as well have sprouted wings and flown ten feet into the air.

A week before her and Squall had drifted by influence of nothing but the sea-winds until they came within sight of a distant shore, whereupon they both struggled to row their boat onto the sand with makeshift paddles.The weather had turned pleasantly warm, either by the full turn of spring, or the location of the new land. There had been an immediate tropical feel to the canopies that bordered the white-sanded shores and Squall had confirmed, almost to himself, that they had reached the continent of Balamb, which, coincidentally, was a tropical island.

Rinoa had been misled initially, immediately assuming Balamb of little to no inhabitants, as she had seen only lush wilderness upon landing. She had therefore thought that perhaps other tribes similar to the north were what clarified the land as continent under a civilized title, but she had neglected to ask Squall this and was pleasantly surprised to view an actual city in the distance after several days of travel through the thick undergrowth.

Squall was startled by Rinoa's sudden outburst of energy and excitement. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so joyous, though he had always labeled her as overly optimistic and just now realized how dreary she must have been during the travel. The energy depravation should have been obvious, as they shared small rations of dried meats and breads and Squall could very well feel the neglect of nutrients upon his own body.

He straightened visibly when Rinoa had leapt in glee, not realizing that they had reached Balamb City yet. She had been wandering ahead some distance, but he could still glimpse her at the crest of a hill, her dark silhouette against the evening sky giving away her gratified posture. His pace quickened slightly and he felt a small, unwanted twitch at the corner of his lips when he noticed Rinoa was looking back and waiting for him.

"Look!" she called when Squall was within earshot. "A city!" Squall immediately hid his slip of a smile with a frown when she began wiggling impatiently.

"I know," he replied, wondering why he was trying to hide his relief.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask."

Rinoa suddenly turned thoughtful and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "I thought you were tired of my questions."

"I was... _am_."

Rinoa let her grin falter for only a moment before laughing. "I'm so excited!" She jumped and hooked herself around Squall's arm, giggling maniacally. She had let go too quickly for Squall to react, so he just deepened his frown as she twirled away from him down a grassy path.

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Balamb was in quiet reserve when the two travelers finally stood upon the cobblestone street leading into the heart of the small city. Rinoa marveled at the simple, yet elegant structure of the buildings, each rounded smoothly in pale white stone adorned with small, cubbyhole doorways leading down into what Rinoa imagined as cozy houses. Squall seemed unfazed. Few shops flickered to life further down the street in the sinking sun's light.

"We'll stop by the hotel first, then go find somewhere to eat," Squall commented while looking straight ahead. He still managed to catch Rinoa's radiating grin from the corner of his eye. It had been too long since either of them had eaten real food.

"Okay," was her only reply, laced with mirth.

They had only walked a couple of blocks when Squall suddenly paused, almost causing Rinoa to crash into the back of him. She looked around, wondering why the sudden hesitation, then followed Squall's eyes to a small house on the left. It looked no different from its neighbors, sitting quietly with half-lit windows. "What?" asked Rinoa.

Squall swallowed, then turned to continue marching forward. Rinoa thought she had heard a whispered "nothing," but it was just as likely to be the wind.

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The hotel was extravagant. The interior was wide and spacey, adorned with colorful tiles made to match the outside sea when the sun was higher. The ceiling was arched high in the same white stone as the rest of the city. Ornaments and large plants sat around the circular lobby, suggesting the island's tropical habitat.

At the moment the tall windows were closed, but Rinoa could still smell the ocean's breeze from outside. Had the sun still been up she was sure she could've seen the clear, shimmering blue of the waves outside by the docks.

"This is nice," she whispered to Squall as she followed him through the near-empty lobby. She smiled kindly at the woman behind the front desk. "I can hardly wait to see--" she stopped herself when she heard Squall say "for one" to the woman, who was now smirking slyly. Rinoa let her questioning gaze fall onto the commander next to her, trying her best to catch his avoiding eyes.

"This way, please," another hotel attendant came from around the corner and grabbed two cards from the wall then headed over by the stairs. She smiled shyly at Squall when he moved to follow her.

Rinoa walked beside Squall as they climbed the steps, still trying to catch his attention. "Squall, what-"

"It's cheaper than two." He had turned to look at her coldly, causing Rinoa to snap her mouth shut. Squall wanted to bite his tongue after hearing the remark leave his lips. Who was he trying to kid, himself or Rinoa? Why didn't he just tell her the truth? Why didn't he just say that he didn't want her in another room? That he was too worried about her conditions? Or maybe that he was just so used to her company? That he didn't want her to go; that he didn't want her out of his sight. He didn't want to admit it to himself, so why should he confess his confusion to her? If there was still a chance to detach himself, he would... so better to keep Rinoa from his mangled thoughts for as long as possible.

Squall kept his eye on Rinoa's bemused expression all the way down the hall until they stopped in front of a door near the end. "Here you are sir, ma'am," grinned the attendant, holding out a card to each of them. "By your phone you'll see a slip that will tell you which numbers to call for any of our services. Have a nice stay at Balamb Resort," she finished professionally, though there was a hint of mischievous curiosity in her eyes every time she glanced at Squall. Rinoa was quick to find herself scowling at the woman before she strode back down the hall.

"Well someone needed to glue their eyes back into their head," growled Rinoa as soon as Squall had opened the door and let her step in.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Squall innocently, letting a knowing smirk blow away his oblivious expression.

Rinoa was too irritated to fully appreciate Squall's rare teasing. "Oh, don't you play stupid, Mr. Everyone-Checks-Me-Out-And-I-Know-It." Rinoa crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Squall as he just walked past her to the window. "I saw her ogling you! I'm half surprised she didn't ravish you right there in the hall!"

"Wow Rinoa, is that a hint of _jealousy_ I detect in your voice?" Squall opened the window, breathing in the salty air with pleasure. "We should be able to see the ocean when the sun is up."Rinoa was thankful he had changed the subject out of his own will, as she found herself fumbling for an appropriate response to his first comment. And what was with his attitude? Since when was he the happy-go-lucky guy waiting for dawn to see a beautiful new day? What happened to that stick up his ass? Maybe it was that whore of a lobby girl who had set Squall's chivalrous demeanor into motion.

"Rinoa?"

Rinoa shook her head in surprise, snapping back to reality. "Huh?" How long had she been out of it? Why was she baring her teeth?

"I asked if you were hungry... but if you aren't, I guess you can just stay here," Squall walked over to the door, but paused when he felt Rinoa grasping the end of his jacket.

"You will _not_ be getting food without me," she threatened, practically shoving Squall out of the way to reach the door first. 'Or crossing that _woman_ downstairs without me either,' she added mentally.

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Surprisingly, the streets of Balamb were well lit at night, though few buildings looked open for company. The wet cobblestone slapped against the soles of Rinoa's buckskin shoes and it was then that she realized how ridiculous she must look. For this she was relieved that few people strolled the city at night, but there would be little she could do about it tomorrow. She coughed lightly and picked up her pace to match Squall's. "Where're we going?" How many times had she asked this question before?

"There's a diner down the street open twenty-four hours."

Rinoa nodded absently, wondering how many times Squall had been to Balamb before. Was this just like every other route he took? She breathed a deeply and shivered slightly in the damp night air. Squall, to her great misfortune and humiliation, noticed. He looked down at her, frowning, and Rinoa did all she could to avoid his eyes. He swallowed his criticizing comment of irresponsibility when he remembered she did not have a coat or extra clothing she could have brought. The raised flesh of her bare arms seemed to be taunting his indecent behavior. He shouldn't have cared regardless, but something beyond instincts caused him to act upon the problem without reasonable thought.

Squall mumbled something under his breath before Rinoa felt the heavy material of his coat drape over her quivering shoulders. She no longer looked away, but instead shot Squall a quizzical look. Either she was too surprised by his lack of insult, or his sudden gesture of very un-Squall-like kindness that she only stared open-mouthed. "I can't take this... now you'll be cold," she argued when her thoughts finally began arranging themselves into something coherent. "You're barely wearing more than I just was," the words were slurred as she wrapped the jacket closer around her, soaking up the warmth his body had provided within it just moments before. She was suddenly brought back to far earlier in their travels when he had first shown minor signs of concern, performing the similar gesture of putting a blanket down around her. His scent was familiar and she was almost angry at herself for reveling in such moments. What was her deal lately anyway? She had never denied his aloof and odd form of charisma, or his seemingly flawless structure, but what had triggered the sudden possession she felt over him? For as long as she knew Squall, her second nature was to run and find a loop-hole in his plans to drag her along, but the sudden desire to claw out the hotel attendant's eyes earlier had scared her. She pictured herself leaving Squall now; finding a way home, and was again shocked to feel a wrench in the pit of her stomach. It left a hollow gap afterward, similar to the sensation when she thought about her mother she so missed. The despondency of losing Squall frightened as much as it did frustrate and confuse her. All she was aware of now was the sudden pull she felt from her feet as they brought her closer to his side as they walked.

Rinoa wasn't sure if he had answered her previous objection and was most certainly unwilling to admit she was too caught up with unnerving thoughts of him to pay attention, so instead she asked, "Are you sure you're fine?" Squall simply nodded in response and pointed to a small building at the corner of a crossroad, lights still shining brightly from the windows. Rinoa already found her stomach growling in anticipation.

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"I don't know! There's so much that looks good!" Rinoa's face was hidden behind a thin paper menu.

"Well don't get too much, the room doesn't have a fridge. And I don't want to spend more than I have to."

Rinoa set down the menu, grinning at Squall. "What are you getting?" she asked as though ignoring him.

"Why? Can't make your own decisions?"

"No, though I certainly have unwillingly been in _that_ boat for the past month or so. I was just thinking you've been here before and you know what's good."

Squall was silent for a moment, regarding his own menu and sipping from a cup of dark, steaming coffee. "The fish is good, but I wouldn't get it now-"

"Why not?"

"Are you going to let me finish?" he growled, then continued at Rinoa's eager nod. "But I wouldn't get it now because it's best when freshly caught. I don't have any recommendations... however, you should get soup or a salad because you're not used to such rich foods yet."

He looked up to see Rinoa giving him a dry look with pursed lips."You didn't answer my question," she said.

"Quit asking them and you'll have nothing to complain about," mumbled Squall too low for Rinoa to hear. "I'm getting clam chowder with toast if that suits your curiosity."

"Yes it does, thank you... but I don't think I can resist getting the country steak and eggs," Rinoa replied with an added "mmm" at the end for effect.

"That's probably not smart..."

"What, I can't have breakfast for dinner?"

"No, it's like I said... weren't you lis-"

"Don't be jealous of my steak and eggs."

"I'm not, it's just that-"

"Squall, if you want what I'm getting, you better order it for yourself..."

"I don't want-"

"...because I'm not giving you any, no matter how much you beg..." she spoke louder and over his voice, causing the few people in the diner to turn and look in their direction. Squall rubbed his eyes irritably while Rinoa simply grinned menacingly.

"Well, it sounds like you folks are ready," spoke a plump little waitress who approached the table with a pencil and pad. Her bright red lips framed a large smile with unnaturally white teeth. "What can I get you two?"

"Clam chowder with toast..."

"Okay, and you?" the waitress turned to Rinoa.

"Country steak and eggs," she answered almost defiantly, "with extra gravy."

"Alright, it'll be up in just a sec... you want me to fill that for you?" the woman hovered a brown-lidded coffee pot over Squall's cup and began pouring when he nodded. "I'll be back with your food in a few minutes." She disappeared into the kitchen.

"You won't be up all night will you?" Rinoa inquired with a look at his coffee.

"I'm used to it," he said before picking up the cup and sipping at the hot liquid.

"It's really not that good for you."

"I'm fine, Rinoa," Squall set the cup down and stared outside, his mind beginning to automatically calculate his next plan of action. Rinoa watched him and felt the urge to get inside his head and dissect what went on up there. How long was he planning on staying in this city before moving on? She hoped they would stay at least for a few days, for Balamb seemed quite pleasant and much more welcoming than the cold wilderness of the north. Not to mention being within a familiar civilization gave Rinoa unlimited comfort, though the style and structure of Balamb was beyond what she was used to in her simple village.

Rinoa took her own cup of decaf coffee and blew on it gently before testing the temperature with her lips. The forgotten taste was sweet and welcoming to her senses and she let the warm steam rise into her face, relishing in thoughts of sleeping in a warm, cushy bed tonight. She felt her eyelids growing heavy and knew she could probably have fallen asleep right there if she wanted. Her half-lidded eyes caught the azure ones watching her from across the table and she smiled, closing her eyes fully. She must look foolish right now.

"What are you doing?" she heard Squall ask.

"Letting the steam warm my face," she replied, not opening her eyes to see his reaction. It would have been too subtle to decipher anyway.

"Here you two are," came the voice of the waitress, placing a plate before Rinoa and a bowl in front of Squall. "Your toast will be out in moment, okay? Enjoy."

The woman had hardly turned before Rinoa's knife and fork were grappling at the breaded steak, shredding the meat more than cutting it. "I've been waiting for this my whole life," she groaned between mouthfuls.

"Take it easy, you're going to choke," warned Squall calmly as he ate slow, calculated spoonfuls of his soup.

"I don't want to hear a word about it from you. You're the reason I'm like this in the first place!" she waved her knife at him accusingly, then returned to her food with a fiercer handle on the knife. Squall didn't reply as he felt his left eye begin to twitch.

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"I can't believe I ate all that," Rinoa smiled, pushing her empty plate away from her.

"You're going to be sorry," Squall slid his bowl away as well, though half the soup was still there.

"You aren't hungry?"

"I know better," he gave Rinoa a piercing stare, then turned his attention to the approaching waitress. She was carrying the check and a small styrofoam box.

"I'm sorry about the toast," she handed Squall the box, giving him an apologetic look. "I took your soup off the tab and gave you a couple extra slices."

"Thank you," said Squall darkly, taking the offered box and check. He looked at the amount, pulled a bill from his pocket and handed it to the waitress before she could leave. "Bring the change quickly, will you?"

"Sure." The woman indeed returned quickly, much to Squall's relief and he hardly gave Rinoa a moment to gather herself before he was dragging her back down the street.

"What's the sudden rush for?" she pulled her arm away from his painful grasp and found herself practically jogging to keep up. "Squall?"

"Because I know what's going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

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It took no more than five minutes after returning to the hotel for Rinoa to regretfully find exactly what Squall meant. Her stomach seemed to have made three flips, twist itself into a knot, and reject all that she had just put into it. Only two minutes after the first signs of trouble she found herself on her knees crouching over the ceramic toilet bowl, watching her country steak and eggs make a final departure. She was vaguely aware of Squall's presence somewhere behind her and turned her head just enough to find him leaning against the bathroom's door frame, one eyebrow lifted arrogantly. "I told you," he said. Rinoa would have replied with an ugly insult had another gag not suddenly formed and send her back over the toilet's edge.

When she felt safe enough to look up and flush the toilet, she felt Squall kneel behind her and gather her falling hair away from her face. Heat rose into her cheeks and she wanted to just die. How _humiliating_! "Squall, I'm fine," she croaked, attempting to brush him off. Squall simply remained silent as another spasm hit Rinoa and sent her retching once again. His hand came to rest awkwardly on her back, where, in an attempt to comfort, he moved it along her spine slowly. Rinoa was unable to judge the difference between the fluttering butterflies and the upset meal that now both mingled in her stomach.

Five or six more times of vomiting passed and Rinoa could have finally waved goodbye to the last crumb of the dinner she so enjoyed. Country steak and eggs never sounded more horrible in her life. Green and yellow dots flickered before her eyes and she sat fully down on the bathroom tile, still resting her head at somewhat of an angle over the toilet bowl. It took all her strength to keep focused on staying conscious and only when she felt a tissue being run over her lips did she grasp the situation again. Her eyes slowly drifted up to see Squall still kneeling over her, carefully refolding the tissue to run it gently back over her mouth. His exact expression was blurred by the liquid that had built up in Rinoa's eyes while she had been heaving breathlessly. "Squall..?" she asked, dazed and not sure whether she really had something to ask or if she just wanted to know if it was actually him. He didn't reply, but let go of her hair and helped pull her to her feet. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as she leaned over the sink and ran the water over her face and washed out her mouth. Again, he didn't bother to speak but led her over to the large bed, where he pulled the covers down and watched her crawl inside.

Rinoa was regretful she was so tired and drained that she had hardly any time to enjoy the wonderful comfort of the soft mattress beneath her. The world was already slipping when she noticed the lights go off and the bed shift as Squall climbed in somewhere beside her.

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The next day was no better. Rinoa had jolted awake several times throughout the night and she had begun to feel terribly warm by the time the sun had risen. Her crusted eyes opened to stare out an open window, the cool breeze feeling delightful against her burning flesh. She threw off the rest of the covers as well as Squall's jacket. It was then that she noticed she was alone.

The pounding in her head convinced her to turn over and fall back asleep...

"Wake up," a voice called to Rinoa as she was struggling to get out of the quicksand and sign papers to her mother's income tax at the same time. "Wake up," it said more firmly and she rolled over with a groan, forgetting the twisted dream as quick as it had come.

Her eyes opened and she could see Squall standing over her with a blank expression. "Ugh-nn," she slurred out, letting a cold shiver run from her head to toe. She immediately grabbed for the covers and tightened them around herself.

"You've got a fever."

'No, really?' she wanted to stay, but accusingly spat "Why did you let me eat that stuff?" instead.

"I knew it would make you sick, and I told you that much, but this isn't from the food."His eyes turned irritable, then softened.

"Erm..." she tried to speak through chattering teeth. She watched as Squall pulled his jacket back over her and rearranged his own new attire, which he had apparently gone out and gotten earlier.

"I need to go and find someone in town. You stay here."

"What? You're just leaving me?" Rinoa cringed at the desperation in her voice. 'Well that sounded confident,' she chided herself.

"I'll be back in a couple hours. Drink lot of water," Squall pointed to a pitcher and cup on the nightstand next to her. "If you're hungry, there's toast on the table. Don't eat a lot," he added in a motherly tone, but quickly reversed it by adding, "there's nobody here to hold back your hair."

"Okay whatever." Rinoa would have smiled at how much she was sounding like Squall and how much he was sounding like her mother... but happiness was not an optional emotion at the moment. Perhaps she would laugh about it tomorrow... hopefully. She saw Squall furrow his eyebrows for a second, then turn and leave. The click of the door finalized his departure and Rinoa deemed it safe to pull his coat closer to herself, as if hoping some magical remedy would come off of it and heal her. Whether that was the truth or not, she did find that it helped her to fall asleep again.

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When awareness finally began forming in Rinoa's head, she knew she had been out for many hours. She blinked her stinging eyes open and could see only red, dying sunlight coming through the window, which had been left ajar from earlier. Before coming to any conclusions, she sat up and poured herself a tall glass of water, letting the cool liquid quench her parched throat.

Slowly, almost afraid she might break herself somehow, Rinoa pulled back the rumpled covers and slid out of bed. Her body was terribly achy and she could just imagine how the flesh on her face must look like it was falling away from her skull. She turned on a dim light and peered into a small mirror on the wall, grimacing at her accurate assumptions. Her hair defiantly flung in odd positions as she tried to mat it down and find her shoes. Squall said he would be back in a couple hours, yet he must have been gone for over four at least. Perhaps in the time it took her to shower he would return, but even after an especially long and relaxing shower, he did not show up.

Munching on some toast, Rinoa pulled her hair into a tie, slipped on her shoes (which had been hiding under the bed), and pulled Squall's jacket over her. She checked the pockets and smiled when she found a rolled up wad of bills. If she couldn't find Squall, she could at least buy herself some decent clothing. Checking to make sure she had her room key, Rinoa left the hotel, feeling oddly reenergized.

There were a fair amount more streets in Balamb than Rinoa had initially thought and what scared her the most was how much alike they looked. She kept a careful account of the turns she made and the landmarks she passed, having been accustomed to trying to develop a retraceable path from the past month and a half. Thankfully, she found a plaza before the sun had fully set and from the looks of the throng, shops were still in full business.

The first place Rinoa stopped by was a cheap-looking thrift store where she dug out a reasonable amount of pants, shirts, and shoes that would fit her from the countless racks. She would have been satisfied with one outfit had the elderly man at the register not gaped and the folded chunk of cash Rinoa was fumbling through to pay with. She wasn't sure how to read the currency; she wasn't even sure the little symbols on the cash papers were numbers she understood. Having faith that the older man wouldn't take advantage of her, she asked him to explain what bills were what, using the honest excuse that she wasn't from around here. When all finished and sorted, Rinoa had purchased only a long undershirt and a pair of undamaged hiking boots, giving the old man an extra few dollars for his help.

Once out of the store, Rinoa found devilish ideas beginning to form in her head. To hell if she found Squall... in fact, if she didn't, all the better for her. She had just discovered how much money was within her current possession and it would be Squall's fault for not warning her not spend it all, if any of it. He got some new clothes, so surely that gave her liberty as well. Besides, he had money with him of course, so this was just some extra cash, right? Rinoa shrugged to herself as she milled about the market, a smug grin on her face as she arrogantly picked out just the right kinds of things she wanted.

All in all, by the time the last shops were beginning to close down, Rinoa had purchased a new tank top, sweatshirt, denim shorts, thick sweat pants, two brassieres, a pair of comfortable shoes, two pairs of socks, and, much to her delight, several new pairs of panties, all of which fit into a convenient bag made to wear upon her back. She was so delighted with herself that she bought a fresh, slightly sweetened roll from a bakery to nibble on while strolling back to the hotel. All thoughts of finding Squall were past her. It had been so long since she had been out on her own and able to enjoy the freedom of loitering around, making her own decisions and time frames. Much of the evening in fact, had been spent window-shopping for exquisite dresses and gazing dreamily at hand-crafted jewelry, all the accessories she used to find herself purchasing and wearing back home. She could only dream about the next time she would be able to dress like she was going out for fun and less like she was a survivor specialist.

Unfortunately, especially in the quickening darkness of the sky, Rinoa found herself a bit turned around on the way back to the hotel. At this hour, as she had learned from the night before, nobody was out and about, so she trekked the vacant streets alone and cold, despite the thickness of Squall's coat. It must have been ten minutes or so when Rinoa thought she heard voices coming from around the bend. She rushed to go and ask for directions before they disappeared, but she stopped short when she found Squall standing before the same house he had paused by before. Not only that, but he was conversing with a familiar acquaintance, Zell. So he made it out alive. Curiosity getting the better of her, Rinoa used the shadows of the night to get close enough to eavesdrop without being detected. She knew it was morally wrong to be so secretive, but if this meant answers, so be it.

"...won't work like that," she heard a distinctive note of irritation in Squall's voice, though his back was completely facing her.

"Then how long are you planning on staying here?"

"A while longer, just to lie low at least. Esthar is anticipating I'll be quick to move, but as long as I'm away from the north..."

"Not to mention you're in Galbadian territory now," Zell, from what Rinoa could see of his face, looked anxious.

"That too. Now listen, I'll need stock from both of Balamb's bases... and possibly future homestead-"

"Here?"

"No, of course not, it'll have to be deeper in Galbadian territory... and unpopular."

"Oh. Hey wait, I thought you already had a place in Winhill..."

"I do, but that's a last resort. If you can find an opening, put me in under any of my aliases, but let me know which one."

"...I will..."

"I appreciate this, Zell," there was a desperate relief in Squall's voice and Rinoa felt a clenching in her stomach as he half-turned in her direction.

"Um, one more thing," Zell caught his attention again. "Listen Squall, how do you know for sure? I mean, it could really be anyone... and she's showed no signs."

"I know, I was beginning to worry as well, but I've spoken with the Chaik-ma elders on the way here-"

"C'mon, not that rubbish again. They're just a bunch of old, loaded men that babble tall tales into the ears of gullible people like you."

"They've been hospitable and have led me in the right direction many times before," there was a harsh tone in Squall's voice. "I don't doubt their judgement. And regardless whether they speak the truth, they gave me the missing piece I've been looking for the whole time."

Zell gasped slightly. "The one _she _was supposed to have?"

"That's the one."

"Lets see it!" Zell said excitedly.

"I left it in my jacket back in the hotel..."

Rinoa breath came short as she reached into one of the many pockets on the coat and her fingers grazed the cool metal of the lion-head stone. 'Just a scrap of old silver,' is it? She huffed angrily. Why was he always lying to her?

"It could be anything then!"

"I had not told the Chaik-ma anything about what I was searching for, but they had hinted at it the past several times I had gone and just the last, they presented my with the other half of Griever's relic, all without my mentioning of it. How else would they know I needed that for confirmation?"

"Alright, whatever you say. Just know that if you've gotten the wrong person, I'm not taking the blame for all the trouble you've caused. Where's Rinoa anyway?"

"She's ill back at the hotel."

"Ill? Is she alright? What's wrong?"

"She was sick last night from over-eating, but this morning she had a fairly severe fever. I assume it's from the drastic change in environment, or she could have easily caught something in the jungle a couple days ago. I'm surprised actually it's taken her this long to catch something. The whole trip she's been sickly, but I guess unfamiliar bacteria really did her in when we crossed the ocean. I really shouldn't have left her this long..."

"Aw, is Squall worried about his lil' Rinoa?" Zell mocked.

Squall snorted airily. "You know how vital it is that she survives. If and irreparable damage is done, the whole operation might have to be abandoned."

Rinoa felt a raging heat fill her face. How _dare_ he! Like I'm some tool!

"Well, you're almost there," Zell was saying. "Once you drop her off, that's just one less burden to worry about, right?"

Rinoa did not hear Squall's reply, nor did she care. 'Drop her off!' 'Burden!' What the _hell_ was that suppose to mean! A boiling ire rose in Rinoa's chest, her head fuming with fury. She leaped unceremoniously from her hiding spot, causing Squall to jump in surprise and Zell to begin stuttering. "Exactly _what_ do you mean by 'burden!' she spat at Zell. "Was it my decision to come? No! Am I suppose to be some sort of key to your master plans? Huh! You can just stuff you're fat head right up your--"

"Rinoa." Squall's hand was around her wrist, as she had approached and raised it threateningly toward Zell without her even realizing. "Stop it-"

"And _you!_" she hissed at Squall, wrenching her arm free and pulling off his jacket. "I knew you were keeping me in the dark the whole time... but I had no idea how _awfully_ neglectful your intentions were for me! I am TIRED of this crap!" she shoved the jacket into Squall's chest, ignoring his crumbling composure with her flaring temper. "As far as I'm concerned, you're as much of an ass as Zell! You can just shove it and find a way to do whatever it is you're troubled little plans are meant for without me! I'll find my own way home!" Before either men could react, Rinoa was gone, running away into the darkened streets.

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Nearly two hours later, Squall felt Rinoa had enough time to calm down and left Zell's house to go and look for her. The night was unusually heavy with darkness, as clouds had rolled in during the evening to block out any moon or starlight. Even in Rinoa's uproar, Squall knew she hadn't left the town or found another hotel, for she had no money anyway. Squall had checked the jacket pockets to find his emergency stach of bills, or what was left of it at least. Her sudden outburst didn't give her enough time to realize she'd probably need money to find anywhere decent to sleep. She definitely wouldn't be back at their hotel, so Squall had a fairly good idea where she would be camping out.

His expectations were confirmed as Squall walked into the familiar atmosphere of the diner. Rinoa's form was slouched in a far corner booth. Squall approached her cautiously and was relieved to find her sleeping soundly with her head laying sideways on her folded arms, an untouched bowl of chowder and toast sitting in front of her.

"She came in cryin' her eyes out." It was the round waitress. "I felt a little sorry for her so I gave her an order free of charge... not that it did any good," she added with a glance at the full bowl of soup. "You want me to box that?"

"Just the toast, please," Squall said quietly, a worried expression on his usually discernable features as he studied Rinoa. She had long, dried streaks where tears had run down her face and she was terribly pale, shivering slightly. Apparently, the fever had not seen itself through just yet. And it wasn't just the sickness that pricked at the back of Squall's mind as he gathered Rinoa's slumbering body into his arms, for now he had quite a bit of explaining to do. At least tonight he would have time to formulate an appropriate response to her questioning that would, without doubt, take place the following morning.

"Here you are, then," the waitress placed the box in between Rinoa's folded arms, seeing no free hands of Squall's to grab with. "Couples like you, always gettin' into fights." Squall offered an apologetic smile, but did not reply as the woman led him to the door. "You know, at your age you don't realize it now... but every recovered argument is another building block to a wonderful relationship. I hope it works out, dear." She waved from the doorway as Squall stepped out into the night with a silent "thank you."

The trip back to the hotel was short, as Squall had been busy thinking of explanations for the girl in his arms. He reached the room without any disturbances and reluctantly let go of Rinoa as he slid her into the bed. There was an unwanted pressure of mingled sympathy, confusion, and most of all guilt as he stared down at her now peaceful face. She had done nothing to deserve this. She had asked for no such complications in her life... what right did he have to givethem to her? She was no burden to him compared to the burden he was to her.

Squall sighed in defeat as he sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off his attire. He took a quick shower and finished the toast from the day before. He came silently to the bed, glad to see Rinoa still asleep, and that's when it hit him hardest. He didn't want to lose her. She had grown an uncomfortable amount on him, and as awkward as he felt about that, he would feel even more helpless if she were gone. He had been ignoring his objectives for quite a while since he had come to know Rinoa and just his discussion today with Zell brought him to full realization that he could very easily lose her. Just as easily as he could have lost her throughout the travel in the north and the attack on Trabia. But she had made it, by luck of course, but mostly by her own accord and iron will. Her own motivation kept her pushing forward... but now... Now, beyond all her other attempts to be let go, she had lost all desire to be here... with or without Squall. Her sense of adventure, no matter how reluctant, had left her and been replaced by a profound sense of betrayal and spite. All because of him. He could have told her earlier and she may not have taken it so hard, as if she had been lied to, which was quite true currently. And now, if she wished it so badly, she could leave. With her kind of determination, there would be nothing Squall could do about it either.

The pain struck Squall hard as he reached for the bedside lamp and took one more lingering look at Rinoa's serene face. He had felt loss before in his youthful life and he wasn't sure he could tolerate it again and for all the selfish reasons in the world he knew that he could not, _would_ not allow himself to lose Rinoa. Squall turned off the lamp and lay down, moving all the way over to Rinoa's motionless form. He hesitantly let his fingers slip gently over the soft skin of her cheek and he felt a familiar impulse he could no longer deny himself. Slowly, as if it may be another hole to lose her in, Squall pulled Rinoa to him, wrapping his arms fully around her and tucking her head underneath his chin so he could feel her warm breath on his neck and know she was there. He would not allow himself to lose her. Not now. Not ever.

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A/N: OMG! Go fluff! AHAHA! I'm so cheesy, but oh well. You know you like it!

R+R!


	15. The Woman in the Book

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own the characters that appeared in Final Fantasy VIII… they belong to Square Enix.

A/N: Hey everyone and welcome to yet another chapter of this aimless story! I'm finally taking the plot with a firm hand and pushing to the important stuff. You should all now be getting regular doses of storyline with, of course, the lovely side dishes of romantic-mushy-whatnot. Updates should hopefully be quicker and more consistent now too.

Unfortunately, my BETA has been loaded upon with all sorts of events that life tends to dish out (sometimes in horrendous rations at a time). She was unable to finish revising this chapter for a while and I decided to post the original in the meantime. I wouldn't expect too many changes, but when she gets back to me and we are able to discuss possible manipulations/additions/cuttings, I'll fix up this chapter. If I do, I'll leave a notice in the next chapter I post or at the soonest my BETA gets back to me. Until then, enjoy the chapter!

Oh yes, I'd really like to thank all my reviewers. Soon, if not the next chapter, I think I will attempt individual responses to reviews that require answers (as long as I'm not giving anything away), because I realize I've made some mistakes throughout the story and I'd like to clear everything up for you guys. Sorry! . 

Enjoy!

Chapter 15: The Woman in the Book

Rinoa stirred slowly from her troubled sleep, pleasantly surrounded by warmth. She was only vaguely conscious that there was a solid form pressed against her, and though her mind willed her to move away, her dreamlike state urged her to curl further into the arms that held her. Defiantly obeying the latter, Rinoa sighed in the ocean air contently and buried her head into a soft cotton shirt. She was sure she could stay like that forever, but a sudden panic of realization buzzed through her head. She wasn't supposed to be like this… something had happened and she knew that she didn't want to be here. But why not? Her blurry thoughts were so persuasive. Why on earth would she move from this comfort?

Because she hated him.

Oh yeah. The fresh air now tasted stale as Rinoa irritably dragged her body away from Squall and stumbled out of bed. How dare he touch her. How dare he impose upon her when she was so vulnerable. 'Jerk,' she thought, trying to ignore the voice that tempted her to crawl back into bed next to him. How dare he provoke thoughts like that too.

Squall still appeared to be deeply asleep. The sky was dark, barely a glint of light in response to the soon-rising sun. It must have been only an hour before dawn. Wishing she had the courage to shower and chance Squall's awakening, Rinoa packed up the clothes she had bought, put on her new shoes and silently crept over to Squall's jacket. She searched his pockets until she retrieve a handful of wadded-up cash. Squall shifted slightly in his sleep and Rinoa had to resist the urge to gallop out of the room in fright, but instead grabbed some wrapped toast and stealthy crept out the door.

Balamb was quite deserted at this hour, the sea sloshing at the nearby shore and the boats gently bumping into the docks were the only sounds. The occasional gull called out in the far distance, as if beckoning to the early-morning ocean. Rinoa smiled impulsively and breathed in new air into her lungs. She was a free woman. Her steps were light and cheerful as she walked deeper into the city, hoping to find an opening bakery or coffee shop. From there she could perhaps get some directions and a good idea of how to go about her return home.

The sun pulled itself into the sky much quicker than Rinoa had anticipated, perhaps leaving the ocean's horizon in barely thirty minutes. This worried Rinoa a little, seeing as how Squall might have woken by now and be out looking for her. No matter if he did, she told herself resolutely, he wouldn't make her do anything without tying her up and sedating her first. Rinoa swallowed hard and picked up her pace slightly.

To her relief, there were many shops opening with the sun's rise. Rinoa found a small bakery in the corner of a square, hidden behind two large trees, the windows blocked by several umbrellas a man was setting up just outside. Hopefully Squall would not think to look here before Rinoa had left town.

Inside the shop was cozy and filled with the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked breads and sweets. Warm light from the sun was just beginning to filter through the windows and Rinoa found a stool facing the outside plaza, giving her a good vantage of anyone walking toward the shop. She set her pack on the table and moved to the counter, looking over the variety of rolls and croissants.

"Morning, Miss," said a warm voice from behind the counter. "You're out early."

"Yeah," Rinoa replied, meeting the man's soft eyes. His scrubby beard bristled and Rinoa guessed he was grinning at her from behind it.

"Sorry we don't have more of a selection, still warming up most of the ovens."

"Oh, that's all right. Can I get this… and one of these," Rinoa pointed to a glazed roll and twisted bread stick with small sugar cubes on the top. "And a cup of decaf coffee too?"

"Sure." The baker reached under the glass counter, picking out the largest of the selections Rinoa had made with silver tongs. Rinoa watched contently, lost in thought. Her village baker had done the same for her, pushing the least delectable treats out of the way to reach the fluffiest one with the most sugar coatings. "You just visiting round here?" the man asked as he poured steaming coffee into a large paper cup.

"Yes, but I think I'm off today."

"Too bad, we don't get many tourists, but it's a nice town we have, you know? I mean, I'm thankful the there aren't a lot of people here. Hardly qualifies as a city really. So where you headed?"

"Back home."

"Oh?" The baker set the coffee and the plate of sweets in front of Rinoa. "And where's that?"

"North of here I believe." She handed him a bill and received more change than she was expecting.

"'You believe?' That doesn't sound too confident. You traveling on your own?"

"Yes. I'm actually not sure exactly how to get back home, though," Rinoa added with embarrassment.

The man laughed heartily. "What, were you brought here blindfolded? You need directions?"

Rinoa grew slightly pale at his first comment. "Actually, if you know where I could get a map, that'd be great."

"A map, eh? You could go over the street to Nickies' Knacks, there should be something there."

"Just across the street here?" she pointed to the shop directly across from the bakery. At the man's nod, she thanked him and walked back to her seat. She sank into the chair and slowly stirred sugar into her coffee, lost in thought. She took her time to enjoy one doughnut and sipped her coffee until she was sure the store across the way was open. "Would it be alright to leave my stuff here for a minute?" Rinoa asked the baker as she stood.

"Go ahead," he smiled.

Rinoa walked briskly from the bakery and across the square. More people were strolling through the plaza, stopping occasionally at the small boutiques. Rinoa walked into the small shop and nearly choked on the thick dust that flew up when the door opened. Nickie's Knacks was small and crowded, various artifacts and junk pushed forcefully onto shelves. Stacks of useless, broken pendants and tangles of jewelry littered all the tabletops. There was a distinct path Rinoa followed to the back of the shop, hoping it would lead her somewhere. Dust rose from behind a case of books and Rinoa was surprised to notice an elderly woman sitting behind it, as dirty and ancient as her surroundings.

"Hello," croaked the woman in what Rinoa believed must have been her best efforts to sound pleasant. "Can I help you?"

"If you could, I'm looking for a map."

"Of where, deary?"

"Um… everywhere?"

"Everywhere?" there was a hint of excitement in the woman's cackling voice.

"A global map," Rinoa exacted herself, afraid of what the old lady thought she meant.

"Oh," the woman said in disappointment. "Yes, I have some. Stay here and I'll get them for you." Rinoa nodded absently and watched the old lady stuggle to her feet and shuffle behind some more desks, fully disappearing. Rinoa wondered how she knew where she was going.

The woman obviously didn't because she had been gone for more than ten minutes before Rinoa gave herself the freedom to browse the rest of the store while waiting. Most of the little statues were so abstract she could hardly tell what they were. Antique furniture was pushed up against one wall, chairs upon broken chairs, tables overturned and books everywhere. Rinoa looked over her shoulder to check if the woman was done and when she didn't see her, she picked up an old leather-bound book covered in inches of dust. She wiped off the dust, but the title was in a foreign scripture. Rinoa opened the book and flipped quickly through then back to the front page. The inside of the cover was illustrated. Rinoa caught her breath in amazement at the intricate, swirling details. Trees and vines bore into the page, once vibrant colors dulled to pale greens and browns. Feathery wisps of leaves and floras surrounded a beautiful woman lazily standing in the middle of the page. She was gorgeous, her pale skin full and soft. Her hair wrapped around her head and flew off in tendrils into the bordering vines. She stared intently over her left shoulder, looking out over into the page to the right, but it was blank. The image was so real, so captivating. Rinoa had to tear her eyes away from the woman's arrogant expression to see she was standing upon pedestal of arched axes, the blades cutting into the woman's feet. The whole image was so simple, yet powerful. The pain was almost real.

Rinoa flipped through the rest of the book. Most of it was written in the same unknown language. Few illustrations stood in the middle of pages, but they were not nearly as detailed or captivating as the first. A strange interest took hold of Rinoa and she was instantly sure she wanted to purchase this book. She wiped it clean and walked with it purposefully back to the front desk. The old woman was sitting there, flipping through several sheaves of large, crumbling paper. Rinoa was worried about the date of the maps, but the landmarks would be helpful nonetheless. She coughed politely and the old woman looked up, an odd smile twisting her old lips. Her eyes were on the book in Rinoa's hands.

"Found something I see," she said almost victoriously.

"Yes, I did, thank you."

"Mm," mumbled the lady, spreading out the papers she was previously shuffling through. "Which date are you looking for?"

"What?"

"Which era do you want a map for?"

"Oh, the most recent please."

"Here then," she pushed some aside and showed Rinoa two specific maps. Rinoa leaned closer to look at them, but she could hardly tell the difference, let alone how to read where anything was.

"Do you have anything more… understandable?" Rinoa asked.

"Mm." The woman moved the two over and began flipping through the others. One was written all over, but the woman kept going by it.

"Wait," said Rinoa, putting her hand in to save the page. "What's this?"

"Oh, I don't think that's what you're looking for."

"Hold on." Rinoa pulled the sheet out and spread it on the table. Most of the landmarks looked similar to the recent maps, but there were arrows pointing to nothing apparent, named in the same strange language as the book Rinoa still held. "What language is this?"

The woman paused, her eyes glazing slightly and her knuckles cracking reflexively. "These words are older than time," she said mystically, suddenly interested in the map as well. She touched each landmark gingerly with her crooked fingers. "It cannot be taught, it cannot be learned. It is only known. And by that, known by few."

Rinoa looked at the book in her hands. "What about this? Is it the same?" She handed the book to the woman, who accepted it carefully.

"Yes, it is," she opened the book and gazed longingly at the illustration of the woman. Rinoa thought she heard her sigh sorrowfully. "Why do you want this?"

"I don't really know. I suppose I shouldn't if I can't even understand it."

The old woman looked up at Rinoa, her gaze calculating, then soft. "Just because you cannot read the words does not mean you cannot understand the book. Here, take it," she handed the book back to Rinoa. "Nobody but me has touched that book in years. You wouldn't pick it up if you weren't meant to have it."

"Do you know what it is about at least?"

"I do."

Rinoa waited a moment for the woman to continue, but she didn't. "I suppose you want me to figure that out myself."

"Indeed," the woman mumbled, shuffling through the maps until she came to a fairly recent one with a key and labels. She rolled it up with the one under Rinoa's hand and put them in a bag, handing it to Rinoa. Almost as if reading her mind, she said, "No, I don't know the language. It was read to me long ago by someone who did. She is gone now," her voice drifted off dreamily.

"How much do I owe you?" asked Rinoa, taking the bag.

"Nothing deary. Good luck on your travels."

"Wait, I have to owe you something," Rinoa was about to blurt out something about the shop looking like it needed the money, but stopped herself.

"Did you see the woman on the first page?"

"Yeah…"

"In all my long life I have seen nothing like that. Gaze at it too long and you might loose yourself in time. I've aged years before that very book, not understanding a single word of it. It's as dangerous as it is enchanting. There is a sister book to that and you're more likely to find it while you're out and about. She," the woman tapped the book inside the bag, "made you buy her. I cannot charge you for something that you were forced to purchase."

If Rinoa hadn't felt a twist of knowing panic in her guts she might have concluded how unhinged this old kook was, but there was something wrong with the words she spoke. "I at least owe you for these maps."

"Keep the maps. Take them as gratitude for taking away my burden; take them as tokens of sympathy for the troubles that book will bring you," she smiled reassuringly when she saw Rinoa frown. "Use them to find your way back here someday. Maybe then I'll charge you."

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Rinoa set the bag heavily onto the table by her coffee. It was some time before she sat down, tapping her lip pensively, then grabbed the legible map and smoothed it out in front of her. She was busy scanning the withered parchment for 'Balamb' and didn't notice when someone sat directly across from her.

"Long time, no see," said a silky voice, causing Rinoa jumped.

"Oh, it's you!" Rinoa shakily pulled the hair out of her eyes, smiling at the blonde in relief. She was so worried Squall was going to find her and bring her back, chains and all.

"That it is," replied Quistis, stirring sweetener into her own steaming coffee. "We just meet in the oddest places, don't we?"

"I'm so glad you made it out of Trabia."

"I actually left before the attack," laughed Quistis. She looked down at the map below Rinoa's hands. "Going somewhere?"

Following her eyes, Rinoa chuckled self-consciously. "Home."

"Home," the blonde repeated thoughtfully. "Near Trabia?"

"Somewhere around there."

"Ah. It looks as though you're lost," smiled Quistis, pointing helpfully to a small island near the middle of the map labeled in the tiny letters, 'BALAMB.' "Not enjoying your vacation very much, are you?"

Rinoa pressed her lips tightly together and clutched her fingers thoughtfully. "Not really." She debated with herself whether to tell Quistis the truth, but she came to realize the only damage it could do would be to Squall. Sudden burning flames flared in Rinoa's guts. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I, kind of… wasn't brought here by choice."

"Oh?" Quistis's interest was piqued.

"To Trabia either. You see, I was stolen from my village and brought as a tool to some unknown means." Rinoa watched as Quistis squinted her eyes, trying to follow Rinoa's meaning. "At least, I myself don't know why I was brought here. Everyone else I've met seems to, though. It's beyond me, really," she paused and picked at her uneaten roll.

"Please continue," urged Quistis. "Who brought you here then?"

"Some... guy. I know hardly anything about him. He was supposed to be commander of Galbadian troops when I first met him, but I don't know anymore. He's very elusive with the questions I ask. In fact, I've been running blind for the past few months until we finally hit here, Balamb."

"And you say you don't know why?"

"Yeah, it's like I'm not supposed to know… as if I'll run away if I found out. He talks to all these weird people, he has connections everywhere. First it was the Trabian mayor, then some random natives, and then a guy here who we traveled with until Trabia. It's all very strange."

"And where is he now?"

"Still here, in Balamb, looking for me most likely. That's why I'm trying to figure out the best way out of here before he finds me."

"And you say you want to go back home?" Quistis raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Yes, if I'm not already proclaimed dead."

"Do you think that's really a smart move?"

"Why not?"

"Where do you think the first place is that Squall is going to look? He knows you have nowhere else to go." Rinoa's expression dropped at the truth of Quistis's words. She was absolutely right. She had done nothing but complain about home with Squall. Of course he knew where she would go. He would be there weeks before she would, waiting.

"You're right," said Rinoa meekly. "What do you suggest?"

"Anything unexpected."

"Crawl back and kiss his shoes?" Rinoa tried lightly.

"That will certainly be unexpected, but I don't know how far to your advantage it would be. I really like you, Rinoa, I do, so I'll tell you what: I have a place in Deling City, right in the middle of Galbadian territory. If you said he was once suppose to be commander of Galbadians, he shouldn't be expecting it, right?" Rinoa nodded, interested. "I have one stop to make and then I'm heading home. You can come along, I really don't mind. Oh, and Xu isn't with me either, so no worries about her."

Rinoa felt like leaping across the table to hug Quistis, but the blonde's arid, almost arrogant demeanor caused Rinoa to reconsider. "Would I be a burden, though?" she tried to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Not at all. Good for you to plan your escape today, I leave just before noon. It's nearly ten now, I just stopped by for some coffee," She stood, pushing her bangs behind her ears. "I assume you have all your belongings?"

"Of course," Rinoa stood with her, shouldering her pack and wrapping her uneaten roll in a napkin. She stuffed the map haphazardly into pack and drained the remains of her coffee.

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Rinoa adjusted her strides to match the Quistis's speed. The woman's long legs covered enough ground to almost put Rinoa into a slow jog to keep up. "Where do you have to go?" asked Rinoa, still scanning the streets for Squall's familiar face.

"Esthar."

"Esthar? Isn't that in the middle of the war?"

"True, but I have status enough to get us both in and out quickly and safely," she replied sharply.

Rinoa was suddenly urging to know what that status was, and in what name, but Quistis's curt response clearly told Rinoa to not overstep her bounds. She vaguely wondered what means of transportation they were going to use, but she didn't want to pile up the tension so soon. She was simply thankful to have and escape route and an intelligent friend to guide her. Quistis was a kind person, despite her hard aura. Rinoa felt she had every right to trust her, but she had a sinking feeling that something was off. She clutched the bag with her new book to her chest, suddenly unsure of her decision.

Rinoa was trying to banish the childish fears and most undesirable sensation to run away and find Squall again when she realized what was so off. She had never told Quistis that Squall was her captor's name.

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A/N: OMG! What's gonna happen! Ya...

Reviews and comments always appreciated!


	16. Four Aces and a Stolen Queen

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII world and characters belong to Square Enix.

A/N: I think you'd expect me to apologize for taking a long time to update again, but I'd expect you to expect my delay and get over it. Haha. Summer vacation is coming up and since the family spent all their money on last year's vacation, I'll have plenty of time to sit at home and write more! YAY!

If you haven't noticed – especially by the end of these recent chapters and even more by the ones coming up – the storyline is finally on the move. Thanks to some encouragement and a firm push from Rin Seren (my beta – go read her wonderful story), I've tentatively stepped over my reluctance to develop a reasonable plot. Thanks to her wonderful editing as well and late-night conversations, stuff in this story has… happened. I couldn't even begin to describe the range of topics we cover or the new phrases I've learned. Anyway, go read her story, for it's fabuloso!

Well, I can't say much more, so read on!

Chapter 16: Four Aces and a Stolen Queen

Squall was absolutely _furious_.

As much as he hated to admit it, in the end there was only one person to blame--_himself_, and he knew it. He had thought he was holding her secure enough to notice any movements she made, but he was apparently more exhausted than he had originally thought, and missed her completely when she left.

Now, he was standing in Zell's living room, full of guilt and fuming silently to himself. He would have liked to throw something at the wall had he not liked Mrs. Dincht so much. Even as she walked into the room with a steaming cup of tea for him, Squall had to swallow his anger and force out a polite comment.

"Thank you," he said quietly when she handed him the cup. He was not thirsty, but he took a small sip politely and watched her smile in satisfaction.

"You boys never come and visit anymore," she sighed, bustling back into the kitchen where Zell was gathering various documents and supplies. "I just got my Zell back and now he's off again."

"Ma, I'll be back soon," Zell reassured her as he always did. "I always come back."

"Yes, but you take longer and longer to return each time; I get lonely you know. And you, Mr. Leonhart," Mrs. Dincht came back into the living room, now handing Squall a small tray with home-baked rolls, "You are the one who always comes to take him away from me. One day, when you're old and lonely and can't go on any more fairy tale adventures, you'll feel pity for ol' Mrs. Dincht when your own kids go running by you with more gusto than a passing squall." She narrowed her eyes teasingly at him and Squall thought she looked too proud of her small joke to not at least try smiling. It must have worked because she went back into the kitchen complaining with a look of triumph.

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"Sorry about her," Zell mumbled the apology as he and Squall walked purposefully down the street.

"She has the right to feel that way. You don't have to come, Zell," Squall said in a serious tone, glancing sternly over at Zell's regretful expression.

"You kidding?" he said, energy returning to him. "Miss out on all the fun? This is where it gets good; I've been waiting for this moment for years now."

"If we can manage to tail her close enough, please refrain from killing her… at least immediately." Squall's tone was rebuking, as if picturing the disaster in his head already.

Squall had already walked down this street earlier this morning, just after sunrise. His pace had been much quicker and panicked. Then he had only been roughly dressed and groggy. His first choice had been the café, but he was almost sure Rinoa wasn't stupid enough to assume he wouldn't try there. Up and down the streets he went from there, eyes scanning quickly yet efficiently through each window and around every corner. It wasn't until well after eleven that he marched into the bakery, asking the man behind the counter if he had seen a woman with Rinoa's description. The man's hesitation and slow nod brought a flood of relief to Squall, even though the man said it had been hours ago since he had seen her.

"Did she say where she was going? What she was planning to do?"

"Uh, actually," the man scratched his beard thoughtfully, "she said she was going home. Funny thing, too, said she didn't know the way. I told her to go get a map across the street there; she did just that. Left her things here and came back with a bag. Even funnier, she came back and met this blonde woman who had only walked in minutes before. What I found amusing was that she, this girl you're lookin' for, said… she said 'I'm traveling on my own.' Or something like that," he nodded enthusiastically, believing Squall found this as much of an ironic shock as he did since Squall's eyes had widened considerably. "Now what I find even funnier than that," the man continued with excitement, as if reaching the thrilling climax of his tale, "is that here you show up looking for the same woman who point-blank told me she was on her own. Now I don't know 'bout you, but I'm beginning to suspect she was lying, mmhmm."

"The blonde woman. What else can you tell me about her?"

"Huh? Oh, her. Well, like I said, she was blonde, and tall. And she ordered some coffee. And I think she had blue eyes…maybe green; I'm not sure which. Good lookin' thing though. But I'm a married man, and I can't be having any thoughts like that," he grinned.

"What did she do? Did she take Rinoa, the brunette, with her? Did she talk her into something? Was she forced to follow?" Squall's voice was dire and quivering on the brink of rage.

"Well now, I don't think so. At least to the last part," the man looked taken aback, now confused about the whole situation. He could detect there was some sort of underground knowledge to this. "Was she wanted for something? Cause she sure looked sweet and innocent when she came in here. 'Course, that's what they always look like. I seen it on TV," the man grunted loftily.

Squall bit into his lower lip, refraining from spitting a curse into the air. Without knowing he had been spared a scaling fury, the man felt slightly insulted when Squall stormed out of the store without even a thank you.

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He had played his cards too freely, an abnormal arrogance had preceded his usual caution and he casually bluffed his security in the face of a known cheat. Ms. Trepe had always bounced like a pinball between Esthar and Galbadia unnoticed virtually by all. 'All' in terms of the people who made the decisions. Had Squall been in any authority, Quistis would have never left Deling on her last visit. To promote himself, however, would have made his location and status perfectly clear to Esthar, which would have provided far too many pieces to the puzzle everyone on that side of the ocean was still trying to put together. Quistis, on the other hand, was capable of slipping under detection and just as easily flying away again, like a loose sheet of paper in an office full of identical potentials.

Squall didn't step into action without considering her high on his list of people to avoid. He was sure he could have stepped completely under her had Squall kept Rinoa under closer watch. Thinking back on it now, there were plenty of opportunities that Quistis could have come in contact with Rinoa. He didn't already doubt the blonde knew the exact steps he had traveled. If it did not make him seem even crueler than he had already been, Squall would have forbid Rinoa any time on her own. But it was too late for that regret.

By the way the man at the bakery had made it seem, Rinoa had willingly left with Quistis. And as far as Squall knew of Rinoa, she was not keen on being taken anywhere without feeling complete trust. And as far as he knew about Quistis, she would have chocolate-coated the whole act. Squall had already known Quistis had a good hand, but he hadn't counted on Rinoa slipping her all four aces.

Squall's first thought was to contact Cid at the Garden to find Xu, but the old man was notorious for jumbling his information. Instead, Squall returned to his hotel room and searched the pockets of his jacket. He released the air he was holding in his chest when he found the small cellular phone tucked away in a hidden pocket; had Rinoa found and taken this, Squall would have only been buried in an even deeper hole. He quickly dialed and pressed the receiver to his ear hopefully.

"Squall?" a voice answered through heavy static. "Where are you?"

Squall let out another anxious breath. "More importantly, where are _you_?"

"At the Garden, waiting to hear any word about you. Usually you're here by now," Irvine said.

"Never mind that; I need a huge favor."

It took only five minutes to explain the whole situation and Squall waited impatiently while Irvine was silent on the other end. "Cid doesn't know?"

"No and he doesn't need to. This is no longer about sides and that's all he's concerned with. I need to get her back and I can't afford to head in the wrong direction now. You're the strongest source I have for finding these things Irvine." Desperation was leaking through his voice and it tasted foreign and bitter in Squall's mouth. It was all he could do to hope Irvine hadn't noticed. He wasn't sure why he should care, but his pride was standing as firmly as ever over what Squall was really trying to say. There was more there, an untouched fear perhaps, that swallowed an admittance to himself even more demanding than the pride. It had shifted only in the slightest the previous night, but Squall had dismissed that as exhaustion, and the blockade had quickly been restored in the succession of today's events. And it was barely noon.

Against his luck, however, Irvine hadn't missed the hairline sliver running across the ice wall. "It sounds like there's a little more than father-son dispute here than you're leading on, Squall."

"Irvine," Squall said warningly.

"Alright, alright. I'll find where she's going, give me a couple hours though. I'll give you a call."

"Thanks."

"Squall," Irvine's voice had stopped him from snapping the phone's lid closed. "Trust me man, I know the ladies and I know you," he said playfully despite the situation, "This one's for you. And if you're still going to play angsty-boy and reject her, tell me so I know she's fair game, okay? Because she's all over you and I can't imagine you actually did anything remotely romantic with her when you had the perfect opportunity through the forest. Let me tell you, if it had been me and not you… well, I don't want to make you regret anything." His laughter was clipped short when Squall hung up on him. Ignoring the complexities of the situation and the disturbing pang of possessive nature, Squall was inwardly thankful for his friend's blithe attitude, even if he did despise being called 'angsty-boy.'

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Zell had been briefed thus far as he and Squall strolled almost too casually into Balamb City. Squall was anxious to get moving and was indecisive as to whether they should stop by Balamb Garden first. They still had to hear from Irvine and if they did drive down the highway to the Garden, finding connections as a group would certainly be faster, but that also meant Squall would have to uncover himself in a potentially dangerous area. Any chance of underground Estharians catching sight of Squall at Balamb Garden would malfunction the set plan to distract Esthar's military while negotiating with their president. 'More of a threat really', Squall mused darkly.

He had taken too many risks already and was still fumbling after his last mistake to dare chance being recognized. It was a dare so much even now to travel in broad daylight in a city, no matter how unpopular the area was. Trabia had been theoretically secluded as well, but even behind its walls, Esthar had caught wind of him.

The bombardment had seemed irrational then, but the more Squall reflected on the situation, the more sense it made from Esthar's point of view. It had been the perfect opportunity to eliminate two threats. Squall had been unsuspecting and Rinoa was still oblivious to the dangers she posed to Esthar. If Quistis had not spilled anything as of yet, Rinoa would remain none the wiser… at least for the time being.

Squall chewed the inside of his cheek irritably and let his eyes drift over the silent plaza. He and Zell had stopped under the awning of an antique shop to escape the sun's heat. It was abnormally hot for a spring day by the beach. Zell had sat down and was flipping through the mess of papers he had grabbed on his way out the door, rearranging them into an order.

Squall remained standing, his back leaning against the wall by the bench, thoughts wandering carelessly. He wondered how close on Rinoa's tail he had been that morning or if he was even looking in the right places. How early had she left? Did she go straight to the bakery? Squall looked across the street, mildly surprised to see the shop that the whole mess with Quistis had started.

He was unwillingly brought to wonder how Quistis and Rinoa were getting along. A friendship must have forged, at least from Rinoa's vantage, and she probably left with Quistis in a hurry to escape him. He remembered Rinoa's bitter words throughout their travels and her more recent ones from the prior evening. They were louder and more spiteful than he cared to remember.

"_And_ you! _I knew you were keeping me in the dark the whole time…but I had no idea how awfully_ _neglectful your intentions were for me!"_

The words had come as a shock even though he could not deny their truth. In passing off Rinoa's presence as a burden, Squall could have easily dismissed the strange possession he felt over her. After all, his original plan had only been in keeping her protected until she was of use to him, until she was needed. It would have been the last thing he needed for her to hear him accuse her of uselessness and end up empty-handed as he was now.

Empty-handed.

He had been anything but the night before. A dormant creature stirred, provoked by the unexpected thoughts of how soft and warm she had felt pressed against him, how helpless her angry form was when oblivious to his hesitant touch… _Stop_.

Squall shook his head, dismissing the thought irascibly as another slipped unnoticed in its place. At the moment it had been in earnest innocence, but Squall had to swallow upon picturing Rinoa asleep and yet again unassuming as she was strewn across him in the cramped tent. How he had touched her beneath the haggard clothing and felt the smooth flesh under his fingertips, living and shivering beneath him. He had passed off the action as a necessary inspection but even then found the momentary darkening of her waking gaze disturbingly revealing to his own intentions. If she had not broken the silence with a fearful voice, Squall was unsure how the situation would've progressed. The idea made him even more uncomfortable, and yet, there was that unfamiliar pressure… an irrational thought pattern… a sudden yearning… an annoying _ringing_ coming from his pocket…

Squall's fingers fumbled for the phone, putting it to his ear. "Where is she?" he greeted.

"You aren't going to like this…" Irvine greeted back.

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Rinoa reached under her seat when she was sure Quistis had fallen asleep. Her fingers grazed the plastic bag, and she carefully pulled out the old book as quietly as she could. Tentatively, she let her hand run curiously over the leather cover, feeling its age through every crack and discoloration. Rinoa quickly glanced to make sure Quistis really was sleeping, before pulling open the cover to the first illustration. Minutes passed by slowly as she was just staring at it, contemplating it, memorizing it. A sudden sadness stole across Rinoa's mind fleetingly, gone as quick as it had come. Bemused, she tore her eyes from the book and surveyed her surroundings.

Quistis had led Rinoa quickly to a train station at the edge of Balamb City. Although Rinoa had been reluctant to follow, her desperation was more pressing than the idea of facing Squall. She would not allow her anger toward him to quell before she had the chance to escape. Too many times she had let his aloofness go without much mind. For as long as she had been in his company, she had placed a trust in him to lead her in safety, wherever it might be they were heading.

Despite as much as she complained about it, the destination was never as much of an ordeal as she made it out to be to Squall. Her life had always been held by a desire to escape her village and scour the world with daring adventures and exploration. In her own personal optimism, her capture was a blessing, perhaps a little lacking in the fun and rambunctious side, but daring and adventurous nonetheless. She was well aware of her actions leading to her own arrest, but it was never so much that Squall wouldn't tell her anything, it was his mistrust in her when she had almost instantly placed her own, vulnerable and courageous, in him. He seemed utterly convinced she would not appreciate the truth, and in an ironic thankfulness, never even attempted to cover up his intentions with pretty, fantasized lies. Her ignorance had led itself quickly out of bliss, however, as she was reminded time and time again how burdensome she was to Squall, whether told to her directly by him or overheard.

What made her hair really stand on end was more so the fact that she was angry with herself for hoping so hard that he would eventually learn to enjoy her company as she enjoyed his. Enjoyed perhaps wasn't the right term, at least not immediately. Far from escaping his role as an arrogant ass, Rinoa saw herself coming into lighter and lighter moods around him. Whether she was teasing him or finding pock-holes to cleverly dig some answers out of him, Squall had somewhere along the line become important to her.

Maybe that was why she was so hurt when she was just beginning to believe he cared for her. He certainly seemed genuine when she had a fever. His reluctant smiles never appeared forced out of pity or tolerance. His close eye never felt disconnected as in person to object. There had always been something hovering just behind his indifferent stare, bored and uncaring as he may have seemed. Rinoa had watched closely and hopefully and had caught only glimpses on rare occasions of what stood just beyond the icy walls. And now she was nothing but a petty pawn-- a means to his success.

Rinoa felt a thin stream of hot water run down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, more frustrated with herself than before. Here he was again, upsetting her, and he didn't even have to be present for it. She looked back down at the illustration of the woman; she wore a haughty expression, yet her stance seemed almost melancholy. Rinoa turned the page and examined the strange letters centered largely. Must be the title, she thought idly, then turned the page again. The same script followed the next five pages until Rinoa reached another small illustration. It was much less intricate, more of a conceptual direction or visual explanation to the text, almost like a dictionary. It was a faulty scribble of what appeared to be a woman in a painful childbirth.

"…_so from her womb rose the light of mankind, protector to all and mother to a peoples related not to her own…"_

Rinoa was startled by the soft voice in the depths of her mind. The sweet voice belonged to her, as if she was thinking personal thoughts to herself. The words seemed impulsive and mystified her as she scanned the text again to see if they were written anywhere she might have read over them without realizing it; _nothing_, not a single decipherable passage.

She turned the page again a few times to find another illustration. She found an even smaller one with only a silhouette bordered by four hollow circles. Rinoa stared at it intently, but felt foolish when nothing random popped into her head. She sighed and decidedly flipped quickly through the rest of the book. She was suddenly wishing she had bought something she could actually read. Turning slightly, Rinoa could see Quistis was still asleep. This was going to be a long journey.

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"What is it?" demanded Squall.

"She's going to Esthar."

"Shit."

"That's what I said. I had contacted Xu and she said Quistis was out of Deling for a couple weeks, so she wasn't going there. Xu was kind enough to phone Caraway and ask for Quistis's last report and guess what? Trepe asked for permission to infiltrate behind enemy borders to find location tags for the captured Galbadians from Trabia."

"He doesn't even suspect her," Squall's stated angrily to the air.

"Quite true and painfully obvious. He's too absorbed in relations between Deling and Balamb. Which, of course, does Ms. Trepe herself only further complicate. A perfect distraction for a shallow man like Caraway. I don't even want to get into how thick-headed President Vinzer is.

"Anyway, Caraway began gushing out his plans like an idiot to Xu. Fortunately for him, Xu isn't doubling up, but quite unfortunate would be that Quistis has already been assigned her mission at least a week ago. I think it would be safe for us to assume that Quistis has been just waiting for you to show up in Balamb. You remember what happened last time." Irvine paused dramatically then heaved a sigh. "As I was saying, Caraway was more than willing to ship almost anybody off to retrieve the location tags. He's in very high hopes that Rinoa is still alive and the disturbing factor would seem to be that he's once again concerned with national connections more so than the life of his daughter.

"So he sends off Quistis like a boomerang, giving her just sufficient enough time to grab the reports and return. As you know, Caraway was quite oblivious to the fact that Quistis already knew Rinoa was safe and sound under your watch. Had she told him, she would have had no excuse to go into Esthar, and furthermore, would have left him in relief knowing Rinoa was still with you in Galbadian territory. Now was her perfect opportunity to, as they say, 'grab the money and run.'"

"Is she going back to Deling?" Squall's voice was terse.

"We don't know. It's equally probable that she'll drop Rinoa off in Esthar, collect her pay and then return under the safe and non-suspecting watch of Caraway."

"Then the Estharian President is aware of her double roles?" the question was rhetorical.

"As far as we can tell. I mean, Trepe has been the only one in that close of contact with President Loire on our side--well, somewhat on our side. And that's disregarding you, of course. Galbadia is her safest resort after Esthar so we suspect she'll high-tail it out of there ASAP."

"And Rinoa?"

"Like I said, we aren't sure about anything after this point. It's a very high probability that she won't be stepping out of Esthar territory after she's… handed over, sort of say. It's unlikely that she'll even leave a particular area until everything's been settled."

"Everything's been settled…"

"Yeah, and I mean _everything_. Personally, I'd estimate…um… a long time," Irvine chuckled uncomfortably. "I can't honestly say for sure, but I _can_ honestly say that if Esthar gets their hands on Rinoa, her future and ours aren't going to be very bright. You know how they feel over there about… Her," he whispered the last word, as if hiding it from anyone who might be eavesdropping on Irvine's end. Perhaps the formality of the pronoun made the connection easier with Rinoa. And yes, Squall knew very well how they felt about Rinoa. Thankfully, she was not recognizable-- Caraway had made sure of that years ago, and the less official people would be unhindered by her passage through the city.

"Listen Squall, I'm really sorry. You of all people don't deserve to see her go, especially like this. I barely knew you when you lost your sister and I really never wanted to see you go through that devastation again."

"Irvine," Squall cut in, his tone impending, "I've told you before how I feel about my sister being brought into subject."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm just concerned for you, that's all. Rinoa was finally someone you had to hold onto…"

"I want none of your sympathy. I have no idea what you're hinting at between Rinoa and myself, but our relationship was nothing intimate. I've said once that I would retrieve her and take her back under her father's watch until Esthar was safely contained. I did not mean it in a way to capture and seduce the girl…"

Irvine began laughing on the other end, causing Squall to pause in frustrated bewilderment. "Rinoa's a beautiful woman, Squall, but I don't think I could ever imagine you trying to _seduce_ anyone, let alone someone as trusting and warm-hearted as Rinoa. Besides, I'm the one who's suppose to be getting us the women."

"You're deviating from the subject…"

"You're right, I am. I'm just getting tired of watching you struggle against, well, yourself. You've got to let… some things go," he spoke carefully, as he had almost mentioned his sister Ellone again. "For the short time I was with you two, I could already see that dreamy look in Rinoa's eyes when she looked at you. I've come to notice how slow of a mover in relationships you are," he laughed, "but I'm just afraid you've lost you're chance. You can't keep doing this to yourself because it's hurting more than just you."

"I…" Squall began, but he couldn't form any words that made any sense. A foreign realization had gripped him suddenly and he just couldn't force another denial. Although Irvine seemed to be exaggerating to some degree, the whole of it contained snippets of the truth. This conversation had gotten uncomfortably out of hand and Squall was very irritated at the sudden invasion from Irvine. "I _will_ get her back," he said. "For whatever reason you believe and whatever reason I know I mean, I _will_ get her back." The words had slipped from his mouth before he could stop them and Squall could almost hear Irvine's smug grin. Even Zell turned in the bench to give Squall a curious look.

"Glad to hear it," said Irvine confidentially. "We'll assume she left shortly before noon and took the train seeing as how there's no landing strips. I'd say," he paused in thought, "I'd say she's not even halfway there."

Squall checked his watch. "How long until the next train leaves?"

"Train? Were you hoping to arrive fashionably late?"

"It would be too risky to drive into the Garden."

"Don't worry about it. I'll pick you at the five-mile mark outside the premises. Nobody's out there this time of day--well, nobody important anyway."

"And the ship?"

"She's outside on the western strip. Parked her there myself just yesterday," Irvine stated proudly. "I told Cid I might use it to patrol the western borders, so that's all set."

"Why does it sound like you knew this was going to happen like this?"

"I didn't, of course, but I've known you for a long time and believe me, pushing your buttons into formation is a piece of cake."

Squall disconnected the call with a sigh. He would have enjoyed the irony of the situation had it not been so dire.

After remaining silent for the entire phone exchange, Zell finally stood up, pushing the neatly organized papers into a pack. "Well?" he said, looking as if he was ready to hear Squall's new plan.

"Would your mother mind if we borrowed her car?"

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A/N: Wow, wasn't that exciting! Sorry that there wasn't any Squall/ Rinoa action and I can truthfully say that there won't be any for the next two chapters (at least directly). Please review! LUVS YA!


	17. Anxiety at the Doctor's

Disclaimer: I don't own Squall or any of the other Square characters, no matter how much I want to do them. . 

A/N: Hullo everybody! Here's ANOTHER chapter that has taken me centuries to get post. Sorry world, it is me who is cruel. Haha, oh well. The cruelest part is that there's no hot, steamy sex in this chapter – I mean, if Squall isn't naked, than any chapter is only mediocre. You fangirls know how it is! I DO have to say that I had some fun with this chapter though… for even crueler reasons. But somebody had to do it. Anyway, hope you enjoy! I apologize ahead of time for my lack of remembrance as to how Dr. Odine spoke. I haven't played the game in so long and all I remember is the v's for the w's, so forgive me if he speech was even more impaired than I made it seem. WhatEVER!

Special thanks to my beta, Rin Seren, for the wonder, well… beta-ing. Can't do it without you darling! This chapter is dedicated to you because you simply would not let up until I totally killed Rinoa. Probably not as many sharp things as you would have hoped for, but this torture is all for you baby! Who doesn't like to bash Rinoa… in a good way?

Special thanks to ALL my loyal and fickle reviewers! I love you all, for you make my world go 'round! Wow, I reached the 100-reviews mark! I'm SO proud and thankful for this wonderful community to meet and hear from some great people. I honestly have had some major issues with this story and have considered abandoning it several times. It's thanks to all you awesome feedback and pestering (Rin Seren especially) that this story lives on and has a definite – and happy – ending. Thank you again! I could not have done it without any of you! Bleh..

Chapter 17: Anxiety at the Doctor's

**One Week Earlier:**

A firm knock sounded upon Caraway's door, causing the General to hastily shuffle the papers on his desk around, moving the ones from the top to the bottom of the pile. "Come in," he called.

The door creaked open with a moaning protest and a tall man with short blonde hair and severely blue eyes stepped through. He marched purposefully to the front of Caraway's desk and gave a practiced salute. "Sir, I'm sorry I hadn't responded sooner."

"No matter, have a seat Almasy," Caraway gestured to a cushioned chair across from him and watched as Seifer hesitated before sitting down, his expression still etched with anxiousness.

"I didn't think you'd make it," Caraway said, leaning back in his own seat. He quickly glanced at the papers on his desk again just to make sure there was nothing important visible. "I was truly becoming worried."

"It was… difficult getting here without drawing attention," Seifer replied, choosing his words carefully. The formal dialect was unfamiliar and it would not pay to let something rude or casual slip now. "I apologize, sir."

"Yes, yes, I said not to worry about it. We have more important matters to address now that you're here. First I must know if you've come alone or in company."

"One girl, Sir--"

"--Just Caraway, please."

Seifer licked his lips. "One girl, _Caraway_. She's not an official and she's quite unaware I'm still in service."

"Oh? And where is she?" General Caraway narrowed his eyes questionably at Seifer, doubting the young man's objectives.

"At our hotel, she believes me to be buying breakfast. She's not suspicious in the least, quite oblivious really. She won't be a problem, and I don't predict she will cause any complications in our plan."

"Why bring her then?" Caraway's tone was sarcastically accusing; the last thing he needed was for his plans to become unnecessarily dampened. He had already suspected that Seifer would not show, and he would be quite disappointed if his luck would ever change again.

"I, Sir..." Seifer wasn't quiet sure how to reply, not finding any logical answers to why he did actually allow Selphie to come along. Perhaps his actions seemed less suspicious if she accompanied him. He was sure Selphie would have realized how impossible it really was to find Rinoa, but fortunately for him, she was still quite optimistic about the whole thing. "I'm not sure."

Caraway stared hard at Seifer for a few pondering moments before waving his hand in dismissal over the topic. "I trust if she _does_ become a problem, you'll properly handle it. Beyond that Mr. Almasy, you mentioned that it was difficult getting here. I trust you only found your problems closer to the cities and not near your home?"

"Mostly, Sir-- Caraway. I faced a few obstacles in finding a train to take us here, to Deling. Galbadian inspections slowed me down."

"And how did that go? Smoothly?"

"Yes," Seifer replied. It had been a little bumpier than he was letting on. He was able to pull himself through the watchful guard of Galbadians surrounding the city's premises. However, at the Galbadian check point it had taken a lot of convincing to get Selphie through customs. By the time he had finally managed to persuade the border-patrol that she was completely harmless, he was ready to just go on without her. Even now, just thinking about the blithe girl dragging along was more than enough to make Seifer inwardly moan with strained tolerance. "We passed through unharmed and undeterred."

"Good. Now I need you to listen carefully, we really have only one chance to get this right and I assure you, there will be absolutely no room for careless errors."

BBBBBBBB

**Present:**

"I'll only have to make a quick stop and then we'll be off again."

"Okay," Rinoa breathed in reply, her focus not truly on Quistis. The train had just emerged from underground only moments ago where Rinoa and Quistis had stepped off and into the station along with the rest of the weary passengers. They were shuffled along in one mass until they were bottle-necked through narrow hallways of stores and merchandisers.

Rinoa had never seen anything quite like this before. In all her life she had never stepped foot into a large city and had only heard few stories, mostly from Seifer, whom she was aware intentionally exaggerated his stories until they warped into something unbelievable. Rinoa had certainly not expected his fables of towering buildings with crowded sidewalks below, neon lights and flashing signs advertising everything imaginable and more to be true.

Rinoa was shocked as she and Quistis made their way slowly out of the station and into the shaded sunlight, where buildings reached even further into the sky and paths were paved in polished metals. She didn't understand how all the people could be strolling around so unmindful of their surroundings, walking with purpose into select shops without even a glance at what neighboring windows had to offer. Rinoa knew she should have expected it from the people who lived their everyday lives in the city, but the initial intensity made her feel foolishly out of place, almost as if the public could see the overwhelming wonder in her eyes, let alone her staggering gate as her neck strained upward to only catch small glimpses of the clouded sky above.

The city was balanced in midair by a continuous intertwine of bridges; most were partly transparent so looking down revealed the many stories the complex civilization was founded upon. Transportation appeared to be mostly by foot, save for the couple of cab-like vehicles in the shape of small half-domes that hovered feet above the sidewalks and zoomed up and down shortcuts. First glance of comparison made the rest of the world suddenly look primeval.

"It's even more beautiful at night," Quistis said beside Rinoa, watching as the younger girl's breath hitched in excitement at the imposing, colorful sky-scrapers. Quistis felt a tug at her insides, but keenly ignored it.

"We're leaving before nightfall aren't we?" Rinoa tried to hide the disappointment.

Quistis smiled knowingly. "We can stay if you like."

"Oh no, don't do that. You're already doing more for me than I could ever ask for."

"I can see you've never been to Esthar before. It's the largest city in the world and it would be foolish to have you walk through it so quickly and leave."

"I'm sure someday I'll be back," Rinoa said distractedly, studying the odd, almost ethereal clothing of a passing citizen.

Quistis let her smile falter momentarily, then perked immediately and hooked her arm around Rinoa's playfully. "My treat," she said, "and I don't want to hear a word of protest from you, got that?"

"Oh--okay," Rinoa grinned back. For the moment--at least just for tonight--she would let her suspicions about Quistis drop. She had been on edge for far too long and it was time to let some things go, if only for a while.

Quistis inwardly grimaced as her own voice spoke what her mind told her she needed to, pushing away the nagging temptation to get Rinoa out of the city. When this had all started, she had never expected to feel sympathy for the target. She had feigned companionship with many people in the past to lure them into the hands of the highest paying employer. With all reason, she should feel exactly the same about this situation, but the motifs behind Esthar were far too abstruse for Quistis to fall into the act comfortably. It wasn't unusual for her to be hired without knowing the full extent of her actions and who she was inadvertently hurting, but she had also never been involved in such a mass occurrence. In reality, Quistis was expecting to hang low until Galbadia and Esthar mellowed down. Instead she had been immediately summoned directly from Esthar's presidential office. If their offer was declined, Quistis feared they would suspect actual loyalty to Galbadia and refuse her any service in the future. In hindsight, the sacrifice seemed worth it.

If Esthar had hold of Rinoa, the whole balance of warfare would be tilted. It was likely that if things got too out of hand, the whole of Galbadia would be soon sitting entirely under the sea. Even the prettiest penny dulled in comparison to the impact of how many lives would be lost and the dire effects of a single, power-fed nation. Up until recent events in history, Esthar had been generally peaceful in accordance to its neighboring countries, but Galbadia had somehow triggered a final step--that one last straw--with its forged alliance with Balamb. Perhaps Esthar was threatened by the closing proximities of Galbadia's range. Quistis didn't know the precise details, but it was only obvious that both nations were now heated and in a dispute ranging further back than just the last decade's events.

"Tell you what?" Quistis turned to Rinoa. "We'll go out and have some fun now. It looks like it's going to rain later anyway."

"You sure?" Rinoa asked incredulously.

"Of course. It's not like I've got a set schedule anyway. We can probably spend the night on in the city somewhere too." _Anything to delay this._

"We don't need to do that, I feel guilty enough already--"

"Nonsense."

"Really, this all too much."

"I won't let you pass up the experience."

"Please, I couldn't possibly put anymore on you. I said I would be back sometime."

_No, you won't. _Quistis was fighting hard against the conflicting emotions from within, as she had never planned for it to be this hard.

"I want to be there when you see it. Not many people show so much excitement in the city nowadays as you do. It'll be fun for me too, so don't feel bad." Quistis watched as Rinoa's gaze wandered curiously into a nearby shop window displaying elegant dresses in shimmering crimsons and blues. She knew she had been ill-prepared when expecting this girl to be some sort of drone, a misfortunate with obvious mental and physical differences. Not once had she expected Rinoa to be so normal--so human.

Leading Rinoa into Esthar was supposed to be like handling a marionette and although the tactic worked almost as easily, there was a trusting and relying soul on the ends of those strings.

Quistis shook her head. She was being ridiculous. What did she care? She hardly knew the girl and nothing was below the façade Quistis portrayed. It should matter little whichever side vanquished over the other anyway. She was equally useful and accepted to either nation and it was only a matter of choosing the victor. Esthar and Galbadia were not her only sanctuaries either. Her pay would be generous and her career status would certainly build itself above most others in her occupation. From there, all she would have to do would be hide low in an unpopular town, manage herself as a commoner without any suspicious actions for a couple years, then reemerge in loyalty and apparent reverence for the victor. That, if everything went smoothly from here, would undoubtedly be Esthar.

Better to set the plan into motion as soon as possible, she decided finally. "If you're so concerned about my own agenda, I'll take you for a grand tour of the most popular areas and then we'll head to my office, okay?"

Rinoa looked momentarily thoughtful and then slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I suppose that's meeting somewhere in the middle." She grinned wide and Quistis batted away a reviving regret.

BBBBBBBB

The rain had finally started. It was only a light drizzle, but more ominous clouds hovered in the near distance as far as Quistis and Rinoa could see past the buildings. Rinoa had been lead through most of the main streets and they were now just coming from a nice restaurant. Rinoa couldn't remember the name of the meal she had just consumed, but it was delicious and filling. There was so much more of the city that she wanted to see, but the hour was getting late and she had agreed to go with Quistis to her work by the end of the evening.

"Thank you so much for this," she said, smiling gratefully at Quistis.

Quistis returned the smile and looked out from under the overhead they were both standing under. "I hope you don't mind getting a little wet."

"It's not like I did my hair up or anything," Rinoa joked.

"My office isn't far from here, only a few blocks away I believe. Come on, let's hurry before it starts to rain harder."

While they walked, Quistis took out a small cellular phone and flipped it open, shielding the screen against the falling water. She pressed a few buttons, gave Rinoa a sidelong glance, then put the receiver to her ear. It only rang a few times before it was picked up on the other end, a young woman's voice coming through with an annoyingly cheerful greeting. "Hello, you've reached the Esthar Head State, my name is Laura. How may I help you?"

"Can you patch me through to the Presidential Office?" Quistis lowered her voice and turned her head slightly away from Rinoa, who was still distracted by the shops they were passing. She didn't even seem to notice Quistis was even on the phone at all.

"May I have your name, ma'am?"

"Quistis Trepe."

"One moment please." A low quality instrumental score started, indicating that Quistis was put on hold. Taking a few liberating strides away from Rinoa, Quistis wondered what she was going to say. She looked at her watch and frowned at how late it was. It was popular knowledge that President Loire didn't conduct business past his "bed time." Quistis crossed her fingers that someone in the office was still working to possibly wake him when the music finally stopped and Laura was back on the line. "Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"There is a Mr. Seagill to speak with you. I'll patch you through."

"Thank you."

There was a pause on the other end, then "Ms. Trepe?"

"This is she."

"My name is Kiros Seagill. I believe we met once before, I'm not sure if you remember."

"I do." Quistis glanced over to Rinoa, who was still occupied.

"That's good. I know you were meaning to speak with Laguna, but he's retired to bed early. Can I help you with something instead?"

Quistis hesitated. "Actually, it's more of a private matter and I would really only prefer speaking with Mr. Loire directly. Is there no way to reach him tonight?"

"It's that important then?"

"I… I'm afraid so."

"Ms. Trepe," Kiros hesitated, picking his words and strategy carefully. "I know a fair bit about the relations you have with Esthar and I know Laguna's entrusted you with a very important task. Am I safe to assume you've completed this mission?"

"You could say that."

"Where are you?"

"Heading to the Presidential Office now, I'm only just down the street."

"Oh. Then perhaps this_ is_ urgent. I'm afraid I have my own duties to attend to before you arrive, but you should be able to get into the building with the appropriate ID."

"I'm aware."

"Good. Nobody else should be around for quite some time tonight. I will leave Laguna's door open to his personal work office. In there you'll find an intercom where you can page him directly in his room."

"You want me to wake up the President in the middle of the night?" Quistis asked dubiously.

She heard Kiros laugh light-heartedly on the other end. "Don't worry about it. Since you've met him before, I'm sure you noticed that he's incredibly down to earth. He won't take it personally…especially if you have what you claim you do."

Quistis was only slightly reassured by this notion. Indeed President Loire had been quite mellow and even humorously normal for his status the last time Quistis had met with him. It was against her nature, however, to be walking into empty offices phoning sleeping presidents that were in the middle of wars. The idea didn't reflect well on her usual caution. But she had gone this far and she didn't want to give herself a night to rethink her actions. Besides, now this Kiros knew she had Rinoa with her, and backing out at the last second would only get her further into trouble. "Alright, I'll be there."

"Good to hear," replied Kiros. "I should be back before the end of the hour anyway if you run into any difficulties. Until then, good luck."

"Thank you…" Quistis slowly hung up the phone and walked back next to Rinoa's side. They were leaving the commercial section of the city, now walking through empty sidewalks surrounded by dark business buildings and various embassies.

BBBBBBBB

Rinoa suspected Quistis had higher connections, but working through the Presidential Office? She suddenly felt incredibly low and tailed Quistis closely as they walked down a long hallway. The marble tiles echoed largely around them as their footsteps were the only sound in the empty hall. It was only as they were coming to an end that Rinoa noticed Quistis' slowing pace. They eventually came to a stop before two tall, oak double-doors. Above them hung an impressive painting of a tranquil country scene; there was a melancholy nostalgia about it, but Rinoa passed this off as her own desires to be back home.

"I…I just need you to wait here, okay?" Quistis said without looking at Rinoa. "I'll only be a minute."

"Okay," Rinoa replied, looking for somewhere to sit, but upon seeing no chairs, folded her arms politely and leaned against the nearest wall. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Quistis gently knocked on the wooden doors and let herself in.

Inside, Quistis quietly closed the door behind her. The office was empty and seemed suddenly larger than Quistis remembered it being. She checked her watch and saw that it was even later and assumed that President Loire had not only retired to his private suite, but was more than likely fast asleep by now. No matter, he would be here shortly when she reported to him.

Walking over to the mahogany desk, she moved aside some important-looking documents as well as a few miscellaneous papers scribbled with tic-tac-toe on them. Quistis felt herself smiling. She had met with President Loire few times in person, but she got the overall impression that he was a good person. Perhaps leaving Rinoa in his hands wasn't going to be as bad as she thought it was going to be. He was so light-hearted, she couldn't imagine him doing anything even remotely cruel, let alone sealing up such a sweet girl like Rinoa.

Quistis finally pushed a stack of papers to the side and found a small intercom. With renewed confidence, she ran her finger down the small list until she came to a small button near the bottom that read 'Presidential Chambers.' She pressed down the button until the red light next to it flashed, then leaned in close, letting out a hesitant "Sir?"

There was a long pause and Quistis chewed the inside of her lip with growing anxiety. She was just beginning to question herself again when there was a crackle and a groggy voice on the other end that sounded close to a "What is it?"

"It's me Mr. Loire, Quistis Trepe."

"Trepe? Uh…Oh, Trepe! Where are you?"

"I'm in your office sir."

"My office? At this hour? Who…? What? Can't this wait until morning?" The last part was stifled by a yawn.

"Mr. Loire. I've got the girl. She's here--"

"What?" The President screeched, ignoring his earlier fatigue, "You've got _Rinoa_?"

"Yes sir… I didn't know they had publicized her name."

"They didn't. I found that out when I had a meeting with Caraway last week."

"You had a meeting with _Caraway_? From _Galbadia_?" Quistis wondered if she was hearing wrong through the foggy speaker.

"We'll discuss this in my office. I'll be there in just a moment."

Quistis let her finger lift from the intercom. He had a meeting with General Caraway? That made no sense. These two were suppose to be at each other's throats, not having private and peaceful discussions. And even if they were just negotiations, Quistis couldn't imagine Caraway bringing up the topic of his daughter, especially sharing her name with President Loire.

BBBBBBBB

Outside in the hallway, Rinoa let her eyes wander back up to the painting. It sent a pang of longing through her heart. The serenity of it seemed out of place in a city so full of life and busy commerce. She wondered who had decided to put up something like that.

A sudden shuffling to her left startled her and she jumped.

Approaching her was the oddest looking man she had ever seen. He was short and dressed comically out of place, but Rinoa couldn't find it in herself to laugh as he got closer. A brightly striped collar jutted out from around his thin neck like a huge fan, giving him the appearance of a human satellite. His dark hairline was receding, but a full topknot of hair protruded from the back of his head. His shoes scuffed loudly on the hard floor until he was directly in front of Rinoa, where she stood dumbly while his curious eyes appraised her form. "Vondeful!" he almost squealed.

"Excuse me?" asked Rinoa, perturbed.

"My dear, you have no idea how long I have vaited for dis' moment!" his bizarre accent was enough to disturb Rinoa. She was keen to note the excited craze that ran through his expression and she wondered if he was really all there. "Please, you must come vith me!" He stammered as he began tugging at her sleeve insistently.

"Um, actually, I'm waiting for someone here. She said she'd only be a minute…maybe if we just wait."

"No, no! Ms. Trepe has made it perfectly clear to me that you must leave vith me now," he tugged more firmly, trying to make his way back down the hall with Rinoa in tow.

"Come, come!"

How did he know she was with Quistis? Rinoa took a hesitant half-step to follow. Maybe she had called him up to get her, but that seemed highly improbable. "Really, I should wait," she planted her feet firmly to the ground.

The short man turned back to Rinoa, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of anticipation and irritation. "It vould not do to keep her vaiting!" he said impatiently.

"Who waiting?"

"Ms. Trepe!"

"You misunderstand," Rinoa replied, becoming more confused by the minute. "She's in that room there." She turned to point at the double-doors she had recently been waiting by when a sudden pain bit into her arm. She flinched instantly at the stinging sensation, swinging her head back to look at what had stung her. Her eyes widened with shock as she caught the strange little man pulling out an emptied syringe from her arm. "What did you…?" The walls began twisting inward toward Rinoa as a sudden dizzy feeling overwhelmed her senses.

"It's all for the better my dear." Rinoa focused on the man's grinning face, his crackling laughter, his blurring expression, and then only the engulfing darkness…

BBBBBBBB

Squall fastened the belt around his dark jeans and pulled a black sweatshirt over his head. His stepped over and peered out one of the Ragnarok's windows, noting the heavy rainfall. It was a good sign. It was doubtful anyone would be out at this hour, but the rain was even more assuring to Squall's short stay inside Esthar's boundaries.

"You sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Zell opened the door leading out of the cockpit and into the main body of the airship.

"I'll be fine." _It's not me we should be worried about. _As much as he resisted admitting it, he knew Rinoa was in grave danger and he would be lucky to even reach her in time. If Irvine had not set up the Ragnarok, it would have definitely been too late. Squall choked down the lump in his throat and tried not to think about that. "Where's Irvine?"

"Here," said a voice and Irvine emerged from the door Zell had opened. He handed Squall a long black cloak. "Use this just to be safe. Too many people know your face."

Squall took the offered cloak with quiet thanks and walked over to a small cubby in the hallway, pulling out a large display-rack of arsenal. He chose a small semi-automatic pistol, checked the magazine, and then stuffed it into the back of his belt. It was not his intentions to use it, but it was also not in his nature to hesitate if the occasion called for certain actions.

Irvine came over and leaned against the wall, watching Squall check other firearms and push a couple of magazines into his pockets. "You really love her don't you?" he asked, a knowing smile playing his lips.

Squall immediately went stiff. It was one thing to hint at certain fallacies, but to assume with such confidence was uncalled for. He half-turned toward Irvine, his azure eyes dangerously defensive. "Excuse me if I ever gave you the impression that I felt such demeaning feelings toward this girl," he spoke calmly through clenched teeth. "I'm also not sure if you've realized that it should be within all of our top priorities to get her out of Esthar. I was beginning to wonder if I was the only one quite so upset that every civilization is now in danger."

"Of course I realize this Mr. Leonhart," the smile never left Irvine's lips as he spoke. "I'm as worried about her as you are. I'm just not sure if _you_ realize that we share different forms of worry over getting her out. In fact, I believe you're more interested in just getting to her than actually getting her away from here. Don't get me wrong," he added quickly at Squall's look, "I only mean to say that you're being awfully rash in your plan of actions now. What happened to the careful Squall who did everything he could to step around of detection? And now you're diving head-first into the last country you want to be in to find Rinoa when you have two perfectly capable bodies of going and getting her for you?"

"You're making little sense. I can't afford to have you mess up or flake out because of your romanticized fantasies," sneered Squall, moving roughly past Irvine back toward the cockpit. "You," he said to Zell, who was leaning back in the pilot's seat, "meet me back here no later than twenty-four hours from now. Until then, take the Ragnarok out of hostile territory."

"It's going to take you that long?" Zell's eyebrows rose considerably.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm up against… and I'm not sure even one day will leave me enough time," Squall replied before turning back to leave the cockpit. He was well aware of the difficulties he was about to face. Not only did he have no clue where Rinoa was going to be held, but he had to search without being seen. The cloak would help, but only in the night. Should the rain last throughout the night and into the next day, Squall's luck would hopefully follow. He pulled the cloak over himself, tugging the hood well over his face.

When he reached the back of the ship, Irvine was already waiting for him, his hand resting on the lever by the drop-door. "Don't let your pride get in the way," he spoke seriously, clicking the lever down. The back wall shuddered and slid out of place, the top rim dropping down into a ramp to reveal the outside terrain. It really was pouring now. The city lights were only a short way in the distance and Squall wondered if they could have gotten closer under the wet cover. As he stepped out into the rain and muddy ground, he heard Irvine shout from behind him. "And Squall!" The brunette turned around, glaring irritably up at the silhouette of Irvine's form. "If you see your father, give him my condolences for his missing son!" he laughed and waved while Squall resisted the urge to spare one bullet for a just cause.

BBBBBBBB

With painful slowness Rinoa finally cracked her eyelids open, the intense brightness burning into her open pupils so much that it hurt. She tried to focus on the nearest object, a bright lamp that was shining down on her, forcing her to shut her eyes again against its intensity.

A combination of curiosity and fear finally overcame the blinding pain as she wondered with slight trepidation where she was. She tried turning her head to the side, the action taking a considerable amount of time and strain, but she finally managed to reopen her eyes. With blurred vision she was slowly able to make out her surrounding: she was in a stark-white room with no furniture, windows, or even a door from what she could see. If she could just sit up and look…

Rinoa made to move her arms beside her, but there was no response from her body. What was going on? She strained her head up sluggishly to see herself stretched out on a white bed, her wrists and ankles strapped down to the mattress securely with thick belts. She was even dressed in an equally white hospital gown. Rinoa's breathing quickened as she panicked and realized that she couldn't even pull against her bonds, her limbs numb and paralyzed next to her body. A voice started to recollect what last she could remember and attempted to rationalize what was happening.

A small whimper escaped her lips and tears began flooding her eyes as feeling started to come to her arms and legs with antagonizing slowness. The first she felt were the sharp pangs of her reviving muscles, then the soreness of their immobility. How long had she been here? She pulled and strained against the belts, but they only cut into her pale flesh. She gasped in frustrated anxiety when her panic rose, letting tears fall upon her flushed cheeks as her efforts to free herself became spastic. "Let. Me. Go!" she insisted to nobody. Her body arched upward as high as her bonds allowed until blood smeared across her arms and the white sheets. Finally, after she could no longer take the pain from her bonds, she collapsed back onto the bed and broke into despondent sobs.

"It vould be unvise to hurt yourself," said a familiar voice from behind Rinoa. She chocked down a sob and tilted her head back as far as it would go to see the same little man from before standing in front of a door left barely ajar. Had she not been able to see the darkness beyond the door, Rinoa was sure she would not have been able to tell where he had entered from. "Please understand that I did not vish to tie you down, but I knew you vould resist."

Rinoa's eyebrows furrowed at the man's jesting expression. He seemed to be enjoying every bit of this. "Let me go! Now!" shouted Rinoa, her head remained awkwardly twisted so she could stare the man in the eyes.

"Now that vould be unvise on my part," he laughed. "So, lets get down to business shall ve?"

"What are you talking about?" snarled Rinoa against her fright.

"I don't believe I introduced myself," said the man, ignoring Rinoa. "My name is Dr. Odine. You may have heard of my brilliant vorks…no? No matter, you shall be my greatest as of yet." He took a few steps closer and made a waving gesture, welcoming a group of men into the room behind him, all dressed in white suits though several of them wore lab coats.

Rinoa felt her fear gripping her again. This Odine person seemed to be in no compromising attitude, and Rinoa was in no position to take any authority. "What--what are you going to do?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but it broke toward the end.

Dr. Odine stepped up to Rinoa's side so she wasn't forced to look back at him. He smiled down at her. "Vell, first of all, I vas looking through your things and I found this." He held up the tattered book Rinoa had bought in the Balamb antique shop. "You vouldn't mind telling me vat it is, vould you?"

"Please," begged Rinoa as several of the men crowded around her. They gazed down at her without expression, their hands folded politely behind their backs. A few of them stood back, clipboards in hand and pens scratching away. "I don't know, I can't read it."

"Really?" asked Dr. Odine stared menacingly down at her, genuinely intrigued. He flipped through several of the pages and nodded his head slowly. "Nothing at all?"

"N--no. Please, what do you want from me?" She didn't know she could feel this level of fear. Then again, she never pictured herself lying strapped onto a bed surrounded by strange men and being interrogated by an insane scientist.

"I vould assume you only had this for a short time, yes?"

Rinoa nodded slowly. She couldn't find the importance of his questions, so she found no reason to lie. He already seemed to know the answers; it was merely her response for confirmation.

"That is good," he said, his eyes darting to one of the men taking notes, their gaze met and the man nodded once. "It vould be dishonest for me to tell you I did not already know vat this book is, but I _can_ say that I do not know vat it says. Vell, not exactly. But that is the reason you are here." He opened his hands to indicate the room they were in. He looked across the bed to two of the men standing back. "Please prepare everything for the examination."

Rinoa's heart began to race uncontrollable. Examination? What the hell what that? "What are you going to do?" her voice quivered. She began fighting her bonds again, the blood around her wrists smearing even more across her skin, covering the delicate paleness with crimson.

"Please try to relax Ms. Heartilly," Dr. Odine was failing his attempts to sound reassuring as he pulled over a tray with various tools that glistened sharply in the pressing light. Rinoa's eyes widened in terror at the sight of the tools: the tray of scalpels, scissors, hooks, needles, and other sterile utensils resembled torture devices more than surgical equipment. Her mind was racing and the newly raw flesh of her wrists and ankles stung as she pulled against the bonds. She couldn't believe this was happening. How had she gotten into this mess? What was she going to do? Was she going to get out of this alive?

Hot tears rolled down the side of her face as Dr. Odine stepped out of sight and two more of the stoic men stepped in his place, pressing dozens of electrodes to her temples, chest, and arms. Another man came up behind her with a metal brace that he fit around her head. Rinoa could feel her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead as the brace was tightened, forcing her to look straight ahead. The terror she felt now was petrifying and her vision was so blurred she could hardly see what was going on around her. All she knew was her fear and the primitive desire to escape, to get away from this awful place.

Blood flowed freely from her open wounds, but she didn't care anymore, her only concern was breaking free of her bonds. Her body jerked against the straps, but another belt was pulled over her midsection, rendering her nearly immobile altogether. Rinoa shouted protests as needles pressed into the inside of her elbows, puncturing the tender flesh as liquids were fed through to her veins. Her vision swam before her and the room fluctuated in its levels of clarity. Rinoa felt sick as a sudden weakness flowed down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach. Everything was closing in on her, the claustrophobic feeling leaving her breathing to become labored. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was the end. She would never escape this hell, never see her home again, never see her friends again, and never see Squall again…

And then it stopped.

All the men backed away, only a few left in the corners still scratching away at their clipboards. Although she much preferred it to the invasion, Rinoa felt overwhelmingly alone. Her exposed skin was sweaty and shivered in the now cold air. To her left she heard a declining beeping and dragged her eyes over to see a heart monitor. She could feel her pulse pounding in her head and knew her blood was steadily seeping onto the bed and the belt strap. Her breathing rattled in her chest until it slowed to normal. In the distance, the men were still writing away.

What did they want with her? Why did it have to be her? That Dr. Odine had made it clear somehow that it was _her_ he had been searching for specifically. And as much as she tried to find a connection, that stupid book just didn't seem to fit in anywhere.

The lights in the room dimmed and the men in the corner stopped writing and left. She was left for a long time on that bed, strapped tightly to it with only her steady heartbeat to remind her she was still alive; she felt so terribly alone. Her eyes slipped closed and she sighed painfully against her bonds. Somewhere along the lines, her body had gone numb, her mind following suite.

Rinoa tried to release her anxieties and the terror that still gripped her heart. Something told her she was a long way from being let out of this bed. The extra strap only reassured there was worse to come. In an effort to ease her overwhelming fear she tried to envision herself back home as a child. She envisioned the spring air and laughing with her friends. She envisioned being home at night warmly curled in her mother's lap in front of the fire, not here alone and cold. She let herself fall into that picture, held securely by her mother, but the image changed and the hold became stronger. Her thoughts went unchecked, for she seemed not to care anymore, as she remembered the nights she had then unwillingly shared with Squall. Looking back on it now, she never realized how safe she had felt in his presence. She had only him to fear and she knew that no matter how much she teased him, he wouldn't have done anything hurtful--well, physically hurtful. She would have welcomed even his harshest of words now, anything to feel the security of him with her. Her stomach clenched when she realized how much she missed him; missed his aloof attitude, his icy walls, and his failing attempts to hide his emotions…

Another chilling wave hit Rinoa and her body convulsed. Most of all, she missed Squall's warmth. She thought of the last time she had been with him, his body so close to hers, his arms wrapped so tightly around her, her own unwillingness to leave that sanctuary…

The door creaked open and Rinoa could already hear her heart rate rising. Dr. Odine shuffled up beside her and smiled down. "Ve dimmed the lights because ve thought they were perhaps too bright for you."

Rinoa mustered the most polite face she could and replied sweetly, "Oh, how thoughtful of you. Perhaps you could loosen these straps too - I think they're a bit tight. And while you're trying to make me comfortable, could you bring in a masseuse and take these needles out of me…they're awfully _painful_." The last word came out as a growl. She didn't know where she was finding the courage to insult the man who held her life in his hands--it may have been the idea that she was going to die anyway. Enough of her life was spent in fear and submission, and while she couldn't stop the fear, she would do all she could to stop it from making it obvious.

Odine simply laughed. "Spirited girl. This is good!" he said. "Now, I cannot promise this von't be a little bit painful because, vell, ve've never actually done this before." He paused to laugh at the irony of the situation while Rinoa felt her resistance faltering. She wanted to ask what was going to happen, but she couldn't find her voice. "Maybe you vould like a briefing, yes? Here's vat I did, I'm sure you'll find it brilliant.

"I have made copies of several pages of that book you have. Now I vould go into detail about how I chose these certain pages, but I'm sure your simple mind vould not understand," he smiled arrogantly and coughed before continuing. "Vere vas I? Ah yes, so these images vill be projected on this screen for you," he motioned and a screen she hadn't noticed before was brought down from the ceiling and tilted so it was right before her. "Vith a little bit of help, I vill transmit slight neuro-shocks to help stimulate a response on your behalf. I vill be recording your mental vaves, and collect data to help me determine the extent of your abilities."

"Abilities? I'm sure you have the wrong person… please," Rinoa whimpered.

"No no, I'm sure I have the right person. After all, how else vould you end up vith that book?"

"I-I don't know… coincidence?" Rinoa winced at how helpless she sounded. And what did he mean by abilities? She couldn't help but connect Odine's accusations to Squall's hinting toward Rinoa's importance. In all its illogic, everything that was happening connected back to the time she spent with Squall.

Squall's reasons for keeping her all reflected what Odine was saying about her now. Was this what Squall wanted from her too? Information? Understanding from a random book? It didn't matter, all she wanted was to be back with him… and it had been her fault for leaving him. The irony ate away at her as Odine was still babbling away above her. She turned her attention back to him, her thoughts on what would happen to her next.

"--so then you vill be able to relate directly to me vat you read. See? Isn't that brilliant?"

"But I told you, I can't read that thing."

"Not vithout my help that is. Trust me my dear, you vill have every word of it clearly in your head. And if not, ve'll just have to keep going until you do. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "if you choose not to tell me vat you know… ahh, vell, lets just hope for your sake you do." He smiled and shuffled back out of the room.

Rinoa was left alone again with only her heartbeat and her rising panic about what they were going to do to her. It was almost promised there would be pain…

The lights clicked all the way off and darkness swallowed the room. Rinoa's breathing shook violently and she was keenly aware of the needles poking flesh and her bloody cuts.

There were three loud beeps from near the door and the screen before Rinoa suddenly lit to life. The luminescent light of the screensaver glowed throughout the room, casting it into an eerie blue. A flashing logo reading 'Odine Laboratories' spun in place before the screen flickered into a familiar image. Rinoa recognized it as one of the pages from the book. It looked no more legible than it always had been. "Here ve are," Odine's voice spoke through a speaker somewhere. "This is the first page. Can you read it?"

Rinoa wasn't sure whether to answer or not. She wanted to say yes, just so nothing bad would happen, but then she would have to fabricate some explanation and Odine seemed to know what type of information he was looking for, whereas Rinoa was made to rely directly on what the pages read. "No, I can't…" she said quietly to the air. She didn't know if he could hear, but Odine soon replied, "That's fine." There must have been a speaker nearby. Rinoa tried to turn her head against the brace to look for it, but a sudden pain overtook her.

It was _excruciating_.

Her whole head felt as if it would split in two, the blood was pounding so hard. Her eyes squeezed shut in agony and her mouth was agape in a rigid, silent scream. Nothing in her life had felt so incredibly intense; the world was collapsing in on her. She could not summon any movements, any voice of protest. The pain was ripping through her like a cleaver, down her spine until it reached her splayed toes. She was not even aware she was resisting her bonds, every muscle tensed, every finger curled in anguish. With all of her being, she wished death upon herself.

And slowly, the pain ebbed away.

Her breathing was harsh and the monitor beeped rapidly. She felt her body relax, the sensation of falling away from the world overpowering her. "If you vould open your eyes please," came the voice through the speaker. Rinoa complied, anything to satisfy this demon and keep whatever had just happened from happening again.

When she did, her vision was out of focus and it took several blinks for her to rid the room of its blurriness. As soon as her eyes reached the screen, she was swamped with a million words, a million images, at once. Her eyes swiveled across the page and information swarmed through her head. She saw the world from a distance and every cell up close, she watched the moon fall through its cycles over and over, she felt time grip and release her--then grip her again. A thousand languages flooded her mind, revealing histories, truths and lies of all kinds. If she paid attention, she would have known how the world started and how it would end. She would have known every fate and every tie and every consequence, but she did not hold onto these words and pictures as they swam into being before her, they just faded out of existence. Rinoa merely lay there, entranced as she remembered all there was to remember, and just as soon forgot all there was to forget.

"Do you know the answers?" she heard Odine's voice call to her from somewhere far, far away.

"Yes," she whispered, and it was the truth and a lie all at once. She was expecting him to ask her any question in the whole world, for she would know it, but he did not.

"Good, next page." And the image was replaced by a new one, the eternal knowledge gone as quick as a flash. Rinoa felt a pang of longing for it to come back and speak to her again, but she knew that it was not meant for her to dwell on. Instead, she focused on the new page and tried to decipher it before Odine would put her through that pain again.

There was an illustration on this page, a simple drawing of a woman's profile. Rinoa studied the words as hard and quick as she could, but they were just temptingly out of reach. She felt sweat prickle her forehead anew as she became desperate to understand it's meaning before Odine spoke.

"Can you read this?" his voice made Rinoa jump this time.

"Um, yes…no, hold on… please," she closed her eyes, expecting the shocks to return, but they didn't. She was quick to open her eyes again and study the image.

It was five minutes and Rinoa was surprised Odine was being as patient as he was. She got the dour impression that he simply did not want to kill her. Never mind, she told herself, she didn't want to die either. Rinoa stared at the image floating above her, the words just there… within reach. It was about her, she realized with a shock. This page related directly to her, with all that she had been begging to know of herself and why she was important to these people. This only increased Rinoa's desperation to know what it said, but the speaker interrupted her thoughts.

"This page is not important anyway. Last one."

Rinoa wanted to shout out a protest, but the page was already gone and so was her desire to read it. The new one took only a moment and strange inscriptions started to pop out of the text and identify themselves. Rinoa only retrieved bits of information; fractions of places and people and histories again.

"Vat does it say?"

Rinoa hesitated, not sure how to reply. "I'm… not really sure."

"Hmmm… Do you not understand it?"

"No!" Rinoa practically shouted, remembering the first time she didn't understand. "I do, its just… only fragments."

"Interesting. Vat are they, these _fragments_?"

Rinoa opened her mouth to speak, but an alarm went off in the back of her head, arguing the decision - Odine should not know what this page said. This information was not for any living being but herself.

"Vell?"

"I cannot say," Rinoa replied simply.

"Vat do you mean? You said you understood."

"I do," said Rinoa. A shadow came over her mind, and she felt herself suddenly being pulled away from her consciousness. Another entity not quite herself, but of her thoughts, took control and Rinoa's expression became hard. "This information is not for you, human creature." Rinoa could feel herself talking, but did not understood why she spoke the words she did. Her eyes stared above her to the image, where all the words became comprehensible and Rinoa finally understood the vast dangers this page held within its texts. "You will release me, human, and forget the treasons against me you have held."

"Vat is the meaning of this? Are you unvilling to cooperate!" Odine's voice became shrill.

"I said release me. If you refuse again I will share more with you than you care to know," Rinoa threatened. "No day will you go to sleep in peace, no day will you walk this earth without suspicion, no relation to your own kind will you ever have again… if you do not release me. Now."

"You dare threaten Dr. Odine, witch? I vill force the answer I vant out of you if it means I must kill you!"

And the pain tore through Rinoa again like a bolt of lightning. The strange entity was suppressed as her mind clenched. Her body fought the bonds desperately, cuts reopening and new ones forming on her stomach through the thin fabric she wore. Again, she prayed for death--any relief from the surmounting agony that threatened to swallow her up and throw her into oblivion.

Her voice ripped through her lungs like a slicing sword and she screamed into the empty room. The sound reverberated off the walls until her breath was no more and she had to gasp for more air. She could think of nothing else to stop this pain - she would die to be anywhere else. Her thoughts scrambled and fried until all she could think of was one thing: "SQUALL!"

The word echoed around the room and came back to Rinoa, teasing her.

The torment again ebbed into nothingness.

"Vat vas that?" Odine's voice through the speaker.

"…I meant… south," gasped Rinoa in defeat. She was breathing hard and her whole body ached. If it meant no more pain, she would give this monster whatever he wanted to hear.

"Where south?" pressed the voice.

"Island… south. Research Center," Rinoa let her eyes slip closed as a voice chided her for telling Odine this information.

The speaker was silent for a long while until Odine came back on. "Thank you much for this. I do believe I have much benefited from this experience." Rinoa heard his laughter die away and the screen shut off. She was left again in the darkness with nothing, with nobody. She was unsure if anyone was coming to unstrap her or give her water, but she hardly cared anymore. All she wanted now was one thing--one person.

Rinoa felt her exhausted mind give up. If she was lucky, she would never wake from this denied slumber. Her breathing became regular and she dreamed of the one person she wanted to come and take her away.

A/N: REVIEW! Don't forget to tune into next chapter where these lover-bird-puppets I control meet up again!


	18. Meet the Parent

A/N: So! Summer's over and school's here. How I've longed for my days of sleeping in just to hurry up and end! Yeah… Anyway, this here story is finally getting to the good parts that I've longed to write about… mwahahaha! I don't have much to say here besides my usual apology for how late this update is. You should be used to it by now, so get over it.

Of course, I can't forget to thank my lovely beta Rin Seren. By the time I got this chapter back revised, I was too lazy and/ or busy to read it over, so I'm putting faith into you. Besides, you always make it better than it was! I'm still waiting for an update on your story!

I owe a big thanks to all my readers and reviewers too. Sorry if I haven't answered questions like I said I would. I'm a flake if you haven't already noticed. Please know that I read each and every review with a warm and fuzzy feeling. You guys keep this story going! But I'm sure you came to read the chapter and not hear me ramble, so read on!

Chapter 18: Meet the Parent

"_...so from her womb rose the light of mankind, protector to all and mother to a people related not to her own..."_

A low wind brushed across barren lands of the south, tumbling over in itself to carry onward and higher. It pushed and blew north, rising above the cliffs, sinking into the valleys, weaving throughout the lush, evergreen forests, until it skimmed over the shore and bound across the ocean.

"_...The people loved her, cherished her, and opened their hearts to her. And she in kind embraced them. But all things loved and loved in return are grown into a comfort and ease that stumbles upon the boundaries of arrogance and spite..."_

Prodding the sea, churning the surface into slightly more agitated waves, the wind moved seemingly with a mind of its own, until it suddenly struck another wind so hard it up-heaved itself and fumbled about, twining its southern roots into the wind that had risen from the depths of the ocean. Wrapped in a nearly unbreakable bond, the winds caught, and barreled forward and into the north, words whispering temptingly between the breezes.

"_It was not long until the people neglected her and not even longer yet, forgot her as a whole. Despondent that her children--so loved and adored--should put her out of their minds, she took herself to the ends of the world to mourn. And there, where the light of the sun barely shone, her woes slowly turned upon themselves and bred an indifference to where she cared for nothing and little beyond. Even then, immobile within herself, her mind would not release her from the precious memories of her children. And as she thought about them day into night and night into day, the indifference shredded to unveil a seething enmity; an emotion so cold it was rivaled only by the desolate ends of the world on which she resided..."_

Further and further the winds swept, higher and higher over the seas until it struck the imposing mountains of the north. There, where the wind could not rise high enough to clear the heaven-reaching cliffs without thinning itself to nothing, the wind wound around and throughout the range, burrowing deeper into the snowscape, bouncing off walls so the breath of a message echoes serenely in the wind's wake.

"_... After many long centuries, her form had changed until she was no longer a woman of warm and inviting beauty. She found herself almost glad that she had been forgotten, as her appearance would only shun those she still loved. And although it was true she was forgotten by them, she was remembered by one so similar to herself. This one who remembered was what they called a witch, an enchantress, a sorceress._

_And this sorceress came to her and found her at the ends of the world. "I have been looking for you," the sorceress had said to her._

_But she was no longer herself and felt spiteful jealousy rise within her when she thought that the people still remembered this sorceress and not herself. "You are loved by the people," she said._

"_I am," replied the sorceress. "But not for all time. Those after me will face a fate worse than yours."_

_She did not believe such a thing was possible. "How could you say such lies to me?"_

"_It is no lie. You are only forgotten, but already I have told the people of you and they are beginning to remember. For my descendants, they will face a vile trial. They will not be forgotten - no, they will be hated. And to be hated is worse than simply the absence of love."_

"_Why do you come to me, sorceress?" she demanded._

The wind blew even harder as it neared its destination. Nothing could deter the rising strength it gather as is went.

"_For many years after the first imprisonment of my decedents, mankind will grow more arrogant than it already is. In the guise of just reasons, a holy war will break upon the lands and the people you still love will be caught in its throes."_

"_I would not let such a thing happen," she replied fiercely._

"_But you have lost much of the power you once had. Now you are Queen of the Ends of the World; of this cold and empty place. You alone can not stop the destruction mankind will bring upon itself. However, you may play a role as vital as to revive your glory and perhaps win back the love of the people."_

"_What will you have me do then?"_

"_Wait."_

Around and around through the labyrinth of peaks the wind traversed, until it reached a lower scape burrowed in the relative safety of the frozen tundra. The gale swerved downward into the valley until it found the small civilization nearly hidden in the northern vastness. Over the walls it leapt and pushed on through the cobblestone roads, catching the city's people in its haste. Grasses and twigs and even a few hats tumbled after the wind as it barreled down the road to the central structure.

"_For how long?"_

"_Not so long. You will wait and listen for the words of a holy doctrine. When they are spoken by my own, you will rise back into the minds of men as the deity you are."_

"_And what shall I do then?"_

"_When the time comes, you will know," said the sorceress._

"_What is your name, sorceress?"_

"_My name is Hyne, deity. Do you remember your own?"_

With a single ferocious heave, not known to even to the northern gales, this southern wind hammered against the tall windows until the claps snapped under the pressure, releasing the wind into the vast, circular room. It twisted into the space, unmindfully as it flurried the poor old man out of his seat and into a shocked daze.

This unexpected gust tempted his hair as the old man struggled to his feet in an excited daze. It was a miniature hurricane! He thought, shambling over to the window and forced it shut. But the wind did not stop.

The tempest instead only knocked over some glasses and a bookshelf, then turned, funneling to the center of the room, the words from the ocean breathing into existence as it rose up to the ceiling. And there it promptly died.

"How peculiar," murmured Trenille.

"_I do not," she admitted._

"_It is well. Already the people speak it, if only in doubtful whispers. When your time comes, they will shout it in reverence as they once had." The sorceress Hyne then left the ends of the world to her own spoken doom._

_And it was at the ends of the world that she waited for even longer. She waited with hope though, which was swift to replace her festering malice. She spent every moment looking forward to when she would come to her people and they would welcome her. She learned to listen close and was amazed to find that she could hear her name coming back into the hearts of mankind. However, she was not close enough to hear the actual spoken name, but it was there nonetheless, becoming a part of the world again._

_This was quite true, for just as the sorceress Hyne had said, the word and remembrance of the forgotten deity was reviving. People still spoke her name in doubt and within only fanciful stories, but it was a welcome to her frozen heart. In fact, she became so well known that she appeared in texts and books. Even a few memorials had risen, to all her delight._

_Still, she waited to hear those words..._

They came, finally--faintly--carried by a determined gale. The proud statue absorbed every whispered promise of the wind, breathing it into itself. The glassy stone becoming more opaque with each inhalation until only the color of flesh stood in place of the model.

The world seemed to pause on its axis as Trenille watched, mesmerized, as the statue that stood so elegantly in the center of his study took on the tone and color of real flesh. He watched with even more shock, as the statue indeed _became_ a living, breathing woman. He could think even less when she looked down, spotted Trenille, and smiled.

Her slender legs shifted as she elegantly stepped from the carved ice shards to the tile flooring. Her flesh, still barely blue, rippled along the taut muscles of her nearly naked body. Her beautiful features continued smiling when she stepped before the paralyzed man still standing in front of the window. His lips twitched to speak words he could not say. The woman only grinned wider.

"Sh-Shiva," stuttered Trenille.

The woman paused, a thoughtful look crossing through her eyes, then, "Yes, I do believe that is my name."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Laguna was still trying to plaster down a stray lock of hair when Quistis came darting back into his office, a look of horror etched on her face. Laguna tried to mirror it past his own exhaustion, something in the back of his mind suggesting the moment deserved an expression of shock and--what else was that on Quistis' face?-- confusion. "What is it?" he inquired groggily.

"She…she was standing right outside the door!" Quistis had a hand to her forehead and her brows were furrowed, as if trying to ward off a very ill-timed headache.

"Was she?" Laguna tried to sound genuinely intrigued by this phenomenon of disappearing girls, but he just wasn't used to these early morning meetings. Instead he sounded just as lost and confused as Quistis. "Well, I told you I didn't see anyone out there."

"Yes, I know Mr. Loire, but she _was _and that's the part that's bothering me. Who else is up at this hour?"

Laguna appeared thoughtful for a while, before shrugging his shoulders as if the answer didn't particularly matter. "Maybe she went to go find a snack?"

"A snack?" Quistis nearly screamed, bordering on hysteria. "She doesn't even know where the kitchens are!"

"Ah yes..." Laguna put his finger to his chin and stifled yet another yawn. He was sure there was something important about this mess, he thought vaguely, watching Quistis go back out into the hallway, but maybe he'd be able to think about it better after a good nap.

"Please sir," Quistis begged upon coming back into the room. "Do you have _any_ idea where she might have gone? Who might have led her somewhere?" Personal experience told Quistis that Rinoa was quite willing to tag along with anyone should they offer the right words and apparition.

"Well..." Laguna rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to focus as best he could. "That doctor is always awake at this hour. But-"

"What doctor?" Quistis felt her heart freeze over.

"That little guy, you know. Dr. Odine. I think you've met him before... ambitious old man, likes to talk about himself..."

Quistis knew exactly who he was talking about and only the worst of luck would have put Rinoa into his hands. Dr. Odine was already famous for his work with in the supernatural areas and with the founding of the Sorceress Memorial. If there was any chance Rinoa's fate would not have been so cruel in the hands of President Loire, those hopes would be out the window if Odine had gotten to her first. "Mr. Loire, if he _has_ got Rinoa, we have to get her back before it's too late!"

"Yes," Laguna replied a bit more coherently. "Yes, I suppose we should." Apparently having regained his wits, Laguna set to work. "You know," he stated matter-of-factly as he strode with intent back to his desk, "I always told Odine to stay out of the Presidential Housing, but he never seemed to listen. Come to think of it," he added when he picked up the phone, "Kiros was just telling me about that scientist's nighttime strolls through the hallways since last month."

Quistis silently huffed in the corner. Leave such matters as this to a buffoon like Loire! He was a nice man indeed, but seemed to lack the appropriate response to emergencies. If he didn't hurry now - which it appeared he finally was - there would be worse fates than laid-back presidency. She watched with a growing anxiety as he held the receiver to his ear and pushed a code onto the button pad.

Laguna held his breath, waiting for the other end to pick up. If he were a little more self-accusing, he would have blamed this all on himself, and although much of this _was_ his own fault, there were other happenings that could not be personally helped. Sure he could have been more strict with Odine, could have given Quistis another location to meet, could have been more understanding with his son, but he could _not _control when Quistis decided to show up, what Caraway had chosen to do with his daughter, could not control the vicious tilt the world have shifted into. He seemed doomed to exist at such demanding times in such a demanding position. Right now especially Laguna would have done nearly anything for that quiet life he once knew back out in the country. It was even in his best intentions to share that secluded peace with the poor girl everyone was out for a piece of. Never mind, it was not time to be stuck in hindsight.

"...Laguna, are you there?" a voice was practically shouting on the other end.

"Oh! Yes, sorry. Kiros?"

"What do you want? Did Quistis get there?"

"Yes, but there's a slight defect in our meeting," Laguna laughed nervously and scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his head.

"What is it?" Kiros sounded monotonous, as if this happened every time.

"Um, well... you see, we're missing a very important factor to the assignment--we've seemed to have lost something..."

"Oh, for the love of... Hold on, I'm on my way."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The air was thick and heavy, the floors painfully hard and unforgiving. Rinoa squirmed uneasily against the metal walls, readjusting her position. She rocked herself into a fetal position, her body tightly cramped into the corner with her knees bent, providing a valid hiding place for her face. She felt awful and giddy all at once. She wanted to cry and laugh hysterically at the same time. Instead she opted for sitting quiet and miserable. It was a good time to catch up on some much needed self-pity.

"No," she thought firmly to herself, "I _don't_ believe I've done anything to deserve this. No, I don't believe I could want to be away from here anymore. Yes, I would like a nice, fluffy bed, a hot cup of coffee, and for the rest of the world to kiss my ass. That would be quite soothing right now."

It was raining outside, hard; a fitting storm for such sour moods. Rinoa smoothed the thin material of her medical robes over her legs, shivering as the cold of night crept in through a window at the top of her cell. What she wouldn't do for a shotgun and the universe with a giant target on its head.

Rinoa was about to cackle evilly and let her sanity float right out that cold window when a sudden click of the door slammed her wandering mind back into place. A panic stole over her when the heavy door slid open, metal scraping along metal. Rinoa watched in horror as light from outside the room poured in, barely reaching the corner where she was curled into.

The silhouette of a tall man stood in the doorway, framed by the bright lights in the hallway. He turned. "She's in here," she heard the man say as another figure stepped beside him, looking in.

Rinoa squinted to see, and gasped as the new form dove into the room and grasped Rinoa by the shoulders. The touch was upsetting to her sore flesh, but the pain was nearly forgotten when Rinoa recognized Quistis's dire face. Rinoa didn't know whether to melt in relief or reproachful-ness. All of Quistis well-planned fabrications were laid out remorsefully in her expression, an honest worry usurping the deceit and ill purposes. "I'm so sorry," Quistis breathed.

Rinoa didn't know how to answer. She didn't want to answer. She was busy fighting the image of her with that same shotgun, only with the target painted on Quistis's head. When had she become so malevolent? She cared for little at this moment. "Don't touch me!" she snapped, ripping Quistis's shaking hands from her shoulders. "Leave me be." _Get me out of here!_

"Rinoa, please, you must understand that this was not as I had planned..."

"Oh, so you _were_ planning something," Rinoa lifted her head indignantly and Quistis visibly flinched. "And to think I believed you! To think I would call you a friend!"

"Rinoa," Quistis sighed, then spotted the girl's sliced wrists and ankles. "What did he do to you?" Anger filtered in Quistis's tone.

"Hmm, is that concern you're faking now?" Rinoa accused, hiding the cuts she received during her struggles from view.

"You don't understand, I was meaning to bring you to Esthar for what was best for you--"

"Shut up!" Rinoa shouted, rising to her feet menacingly. Her usually kind, wide eyes narrowed dangerously as she pointed an accusing finger in Quistis's face. "Not another word from you! I know what you're all after and it's not _what's best for me_! I've been living for months as a mere tool; a compass and pawn for information I didn't even know!" Rinoa let her eyes shift to the open doorway, the man no longer in sight. If she could just keep this up for a little longer, she could make a run for it. "I don't want to hear _crap_ about what's good for me! Because does this look good for me to you?" She pulled the flesh of one wrist apart, reopening the wound. "Does this look good for me?" She lifted her sleeves to reveal the entry points of several needles while slowly circling Quistis, giving herself a clear exit. "Does this look good for me?" she added almost on the verge of tears, opening her arms wide to emphasize her current dress and situation. "I've had it with you people and I've had it with this sick and twisted world! I hope you all kill each other!" And with that she turned and fled, a stunned Quistis still trying to regain composure. By the time she realized Rinoa had made a run for it, the girl had already disappeared down the hall.

Rinoa had never run so hard in her life. The white walls whipped past her in a blur and she was taking turns at random, equally hoping it would lose her pursuers and find her an exit at the same time. The robes fluttered as she sprinted down corridors and through double doors, something in the back of her mind sighing in modest relief that the medical robes did not open in the back. That's all she would have needed for icing on the cake--people to watch her flee, rear end bared to the world. Not that having a closed back made her escape in flimsy cotton robes any more dignified.

A few more turns...and there! An exit! She could see the darkness of a rainy night through the windows and could feel her bare feet slapping against the cold tiles as she strove towards it. Her breath labored painfully in her chest, her heart pounded impossibly hard against her ribs, a stitch developed piercingly in her side, her tired legs quivered beneath her weight. But she was so close she could nearly reach--

--Suddenly a strong hand grabbed her wrist, abruptly stopping her upper body while her legs kept running. It would have been a humorous sight to anyone else as her legs flew out from under her and she was no longer looking at the exit but instead watched as her feet floundered against the backdrop of the ceiling. She closed her eyes tight as she expected the hard floor to give her rear some severe punishment, but another hand caught her just below her other arm and lifted her before she could have a very rude abutment with the ground.

Rinoa's head was swimming from the speed and the fall. She stumbled slightly until she found her footing, and slowly lifted her eyes to her captor. She was expecting some sort of security guard, or even one of those creepy men with the clipboards, but this man failed to meet either expectancy.

He was tall, but stooped slightly. Long dark hair fell haphazardly over his face and quirked in awkward positions. He was wearing denim jeans and a loose cotton shirt. If she had time to study it more, she would have said his shirt was in fact pajamas. Rinoa gaped, at a loss of what to say or how to react. He was still holding her wrist tightly and Rinoa tugged it insistently, hoping she would still have a chance at the door if she could twist herself free but the grip was unrelenting.

"So _this_ is Ms. Heartilly," the man spoke with a deep voice. "What an eye-catcher!" He smiled beguilingly.

"Oh thank heavens!" a strained voice screeched from down the hall. Rinoa and her captor turned to see Quistis rounding a corner and coming down to meet them, her breath coming harshly. She was followed by another man, presumably the one who had opened to door to Rinoa's cell. He was tall, dark-skinned, and willowy.

"And I was just going to call for you to catch her," breathed the man as he and Quistis came close. "Because I was thinking we certainly weren't making enough noise already," he added sarcastically.

The man holding Rinoa smiled. "Well, looks like I already did. Good thing too, I was about to turn down another hall. I get so lost in this place." His grip loosened on Rinoa, believing she would find it now impossible to escape with three able bodies surrounding her.

Rinoa took the cue and just crossed her arms defiantly. _Best go down with a fight_, she thought determinably. Quistis finally caught her breath and frowned. "She took off unexpectedly."

"I wouldn't doubt it," said Rinoa's captor. He turned to her suddenly, the warmth still in his eyes. There was a familiarity to his face and a sudden pang ran into the pit of Rinoa's stomach. She caught her breath to hold back some rising emotion, but the man didn't seem to notice. "_All_ of this was really unexpected. You have my apologies, Ms. Heartilly. My name is Laguna Loire."

Rinoa's eyebrows rose in considerable surprise. The President? She wasn't sure if she was more shocked at his gentle demeanor or his lack of formality (especially in the clothing department). He was the last thing she would have thought of as the President of Esthar. This good-natured face with a sloppy grin definitely didn't fit Rinoa's mental image of the tyrant who waged a world war. However, she had been susceptible to these kind faces lately and hadn't found herself basking in the best of results. She forced a small smile in response. "Um... Hi?"

Laguna just threw back his head and laughed. He turned to Kiros, the man behind Quistis, and stated as if making a keen observation of Rinoa's reaction: "If I didn't know better, I'd say this was the wrong woman! I do believe I did say this has been an event full of surprises."

"Indeed," Kiros muttered. He gave Rinoa an appraising look, and then turned to Quistis. "You _have_ brought the right girl, correct?"

"Of course I have!" Quistis snapped indignantly. Her mood was becoming fouler by the moment.

"I don't think Odine would be fool enough to take the wrong person," commented Laguna with a confirming nod.

"Odine would have been desperate enough to make anyone into a lab rat, if only just to sate his thirst to know. I wouldn't be surprised if there were random women in the other cells."

"Perhaps," Laguna nodded again. His fickle agreements hovered in the air, waiting for someone else to make a suggestion that he could readily agree to.

"It _is_ her," cut in Quistis, her brows furrowing in frustration. "She was with Commander Leonhart all the way from the north. I first saw them in Trabia and lastly in Balamb. Who else would he incarcerate for so long? The last I knew, he wasn't so fond of company."

"This is true too!" Laguna concluded happily and Kiros sighed in exasperated defeat. Laguna opened his mouth, paused, a frown creasing his forehead. It was the first time Rinoa noticed the worry lines hidden in the corners of his features and the streaks of grey in his hair. "I thought he was only bluffing," he commented in perceptive annoyance.

Kiros sighed again. "I _told_ you that boy was trouble."

"Hm..."

Rinoa was beginning to get fed up. All this talk and doubt and confirmation and relations were meaning close to nothing to her, apparently oblivious, lifestyle. So Laguna knew Squall, Quistis _was_ assigned to bring her here, Rinoa proved more vital a player than she had every imagined, and they all had their own opinions while being too eager to express them. That wasn't so much upsetting as the fact that they were bickering right above her head, as if she weren't there. She had the sudden image of herself at five years old, surrounded by adults, each criticizing her without notice of her presence. "It _is_ me," she interjected.

"What?" Laguna and Kiros said in unison.

"It's me. I'm the one you're all looking for."

"Oh."

"Can we discuss this elsewhere?" Quistis huffed. "It's luck enough that we haven't been caught yet. I don't want to expand our chances any more."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The rain really was coming down in great torrents. It battered against the street with heavy lashed, plump drops cascading down by the millions. Neon signs blurred together even at a close distance. There was hardly a body out trying to read the signs anyway. Shop windows were dark and the streets were vacant of all life... almost.

Making his way through the pressing sheets of rain, Squall kept walking without pause. He kept his eyes trained on the curb where his feet sloshed through puddles and the downstream, trying to crush Irvine's words as they kept popping back into his head. That man was becoming a nuisance and he should not find himself the liberty to accuse Squall of such petty emotions. The wheel of words; these repeated declarations, kept turning to inevitably replay.

"_You of all people don't deserve to see her go, especially like this..."_

SMASH!

"_Rinoa was finally someone you had to hold onto..."_

CRUSH!

"_You really love her don't you?"_

OBLITERATE!

"_...I could already see that dreamy look in Rinoa's eyes when she looked at you..."_

Hesitate. Then, SAFELY TUCK AWAY TO EXAMINE LATER!

Shaking his head to rid himself of this plague of thoughts, Squall tried to focus on where he was going as his exact destination had not yet been pinpointed. Where _was_ he heading anyway? He was just walking... thinking. That wouldn't do for now. Somewhere in this city, hidden behind the bright signs and the peaceful facade, Rinoa was trapped...helpless...and probably scared.

"_You can't keep doing this to yourself because it's hurting more than just you..."_

Quiet, you traitorous mind! Focus!

Squall shook his head again, sending water droplets flying from his drenched bangs. He needed a direction, and this one might _not_ be as good as any other. Where would Quistis take Rinoa? The Presidential Housing was the first to pop into his mind. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse...

Squall stopped and made a quick circle, trying to discern landscapes that would tell him where he was. Through the night and the rain, the action was pretty useless. Behind him he could just barely make out the signs of clubs and bars that were still open. He wished he had paid attention when he passed them, but it was too late now. Turning back would only waste more time, especially if he was going in the right direction now. But if he wasn't, if the Presidential Housing was back the other way--well, he had to take chances sometimes.

Onward he went, moving against the rain and the wind, pushing through the storm relentlessly, watching his feet carry him closer, or further, from Rinoa. The thought was hopeful and bitter at the same time.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

He didn't know how long he had been walking, but he was growing tired and increasingly irritated. He was thoroughly soaked, his dark jeans and sweatshirt sticking to his skin, which had been the base cause of a mad shivering that ran through his body. Only the flesh was cold, so no need to worry yet. However, should he keep moving through the downpour, despite the circulation of blood, the chill would reach the muscles and soon after the bones. The smartest move now would be to find cover and either wait for the rain to ease or wait for his body to warm again. Spotting the fuzzy pink brightness of neon lights ahead, Squall moved across the street towards the bar.

Passing empty alleys as he made his way forward, Squall slipped into one before he reached the bar. He couldn't chance being recognized. Shielded under the overlapping roofs of two buildings, Squall wrung out his clothes as best he could. Then, removing the hair that was plastered to his face, he pulled the hood of his cloak low over his features. It clung to his head just as his clothes did to the rest of his body, but it would serve its purpose. Leaning against the wall, Squall paused to watch the rain from his small sanctuary. His thoughts involuntarily returned to another storm, only then it had been in the forest up north; only then his attitude had been much lighter because his company was not only his own...

Snorting softly, Squall shoved the memory away with all the other treacherous memories that had been spurred since Rinoa's capture. If even to rescue her to save only himself!

Creeping silently around the corner, Squall allowed himself to slip into the bar unnoticed. It was quite easy to blend in, for there was a throbbing crowd of both the 'usuals' and those just trying to escape the rain. With a quick and low sweep of his eyes, Squall could see that he was not the only suspicious looking person trying to hide themselves, which made him not so suspicious after all. Falling behind people, sliding between shoulders and between tables and askew chairs, Squall found the wall and let himself rest against it.

He would not have much time to regain his strength and warmth, but he was thoroughly enjoying the short wait while he could. Pulling the cowl a little lower and to the side, Squall let one azure eye scan the throng more closely. And it was then that he spotted the person he least expected to see.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Rinoa pulled the jacket closer around her quivering body. The weather was unrelenting and forced its fury upon her. She was thankful, at least, that it provided substantial cover. She was practically walking down the middle of the street without a worry of being noticed. Her clothing was soaked, which vexed her to no ends seeing as how she just received them new. Well, not exactly new. They did in fact have a previous owner...

"Try this one on, see how it fits."

"It's going to be too big," Rinoa sighed in exasperation, "just like all the other ones." She pulled down yet another pair of pants, being sure that the cotton robes still covered her decently.

"Hmm," Laguna mumbled thoughtfully, taking a step back to assess the situation. "I can't remember if--Oh! I've got it!" And he zipped out of the room, leaving Rinoa standing bewildered with a pair of pants around her ankles. She was not only back in the Presidential Housing, but now she was in Laguna's _chambers_ instead of the hallway or office. It was a bit intimidating, and, as Laguna had said nearly fifty times that night, unexpected.

Stepping out of the puddle of slacks at her feet, Rinoa let herself venture the room. It looked oddly like any other house she had been in. The bed was simple and not very large, there was a messy bookshelf, a stand holding a vase of dying flowers, paintings on the wall of what Rinoa assumed was that same village that was painted outside the office, and--most evident that this would _never_ be considered a presidents personal chamber--it was unkempt. Even before Laguna had started rummaging through his closet, various articles of clothing had littered the floor. Papers, probably very important documents or treaties, were crumpled and lay forgotten on tables. A fishbowl sitting atop the bookshelf was murky and it was doubtful that if anything alive was in there, it would not be alive anymore.

Still, despite his sloppiness and lack of profession, Rinoa was finding herself falling for the endearing charm of Laguna Loire. Unlike the suspicious or forced kindness Quistis had originally demonstrated, Laguna was genuine; a true gentleman. He smiled often and laughed with even more ease. He was carefree and down to earth, honestly concerned for Rinoa and what had happened at the lab. When he had asked, Rinoa had divulged instantly, showing him the deep cuts on her wrists and ankles, until Laguna promptly told her to stop, as it was making him uncomfortable. He had apologized over and over and made it perfectly clear that he had no intentions of harming Rinoa.

"What were you planning to do then?" Rinoa asked, fully assuming the 'none of your business' response typical of Squall.

"Keep you safe of course."

"Oh," Rinoa blushed and was taken aback slightly. "Well that's a taxing concern for a man who has a war to deal with."

"Of course, your safety includes the safety of everyone else," Laguna stated with a nod of his head, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

It was after those words that Rinoa decided that she really liked Laguna. But still, there was something wrong with this whole situation. Somewhere along the way she had missed a vital part of the plot. "Then..." she began, uncertain of what she was trying to say. "Then why has Squall been trying to get away from Esthar this whole time?" Now she was assuming in dangerous territory. Of course she knew that Squall had his own plans for her, but she could never admit to herself that they might be harmful. At first, perhaps, but as they spent more and more time together, she felt dubious about Squall taking her in for some ritualistic sacrifice; unless that ritual included complete and undying trust. No matter anymore, trust had gone out the window long ago. She only trusted when there was no other choice left.

So, assuming Squall knew that Esthar's President did not have ill-intentions for her, assuming Squall did not want to hurt her in the first place, assuming that she would not prove useful in any other areas except reading totally random and ancient texts, why _didn't_ Squall go straight to Esthar? They were close enough. Then again, he had been under Galbadian command; except she wasn't so sure of that anymore. From the battle in Trabia to the present, Squall hardly even mentioned Galbadia, let alone commands from higher forces. All he had been aiming toward was what to do with her. Her eavesdropping between Squall and Zell confirmed this suspicion as well. That only left one option left:

His intents had been personal.

"Eh...you see...um, Squall is some character isn't he?" Laguna laughed nervously and resumed scratching that imaginary itch.

"Yes, yes he is," agreed Rinoa stoically. "But that doesn't explain--"

"Here, try these on!"

She was still contemplating that question, rolling it around in her mind, when Laguna had left the room after she had failed to fit into the fourth pair of pants he offered. Laguna was sweet, maybe a little air-headed, but he knew _something_ that he was reluctant to share. Rinoa's mind festered over the possibilities as she toured the messy room when Laguna strode back inside with triumph.

"These ones!" he said excitedly, holding up a pair of jeans that were obviously not his own.

They had fit quite nicely, if a bit snug. "Whose are these?" Rinoa ventured.

Laguna grinned as he watched Rinoa tug at the knees, adjusting her legs beneath the tight material. "My daughter's--well, my adopted daughter's." A faraway look crossed his eyes.

"Oh. Will she mind?" Rinoa looked around as if expecting a girl around her age to come storming into the room and beat Rinoa out of her pants.

"What? Ah, no," Laguna breathed, a sad smile tugging the corner of his lips.

"She's...gone."

Rinoa gasped. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean--"

"It's quite alright. She would have wanted you to have her...pants," he finished with a renewed laugh...

Rinoa wrung out the corner of her shirt. The shirt belonged to Laguna. He had persisted, insisting it would be warmer than any of the shirts he still had of his daughter's. Indeed it was quite warm at first, but as she struggled through the rain, the shirt was becoming more and more like a sponge.

Pausing to catch her breath and reassess herself, Rinoa smiled at the memory of Laguna as he bid her farewell. He had given her a lopsided grin, told her good-luck, and patted her on the head like a little girl. Then, just like that little girl, she had thrown her arms around him and thanked him endlessly. He awkwardly returned the embrace, and then forced himself to disentangle her arms, telling her to be on her way before it was too late. Out into the rainy, empty streets she had gone.

So here she was, looking for a pub of sorts where she was supposed to meet Quistis, who would then take her back to the train station and back to Balamb to wait things out. From there it would be up in the air for a couple weeks while things settled and Laguna was able to meet with Caraway. Then, Laguna had promised, he would drop by Balamb, pick Rinoa up, and take her to a place he knew she would be safe. She had an inkling of where he meant, thinking of all the paintings hanging around the Presidential Housing.

How far away was this place anyway? She was getting cold and tired, and her wounds ached beneath the bandages that had just been wrapped around them. Trudging onward, Rinoa let her hopes give her the energy to carry on.

It had only been a short while until Rinoa noticed the glowing of a distant light. Picking up her pace, she reached a bar--the right one, she hoped--and stepped inside, thankful for the dry warmth.

Skimming the tops of heads, Rinoa believed it might be easier to spot Quistis from the bar. She squeezed past people, trying to ignore the drunken men ogling her and her skin-soaked shirt. Shoving her way through a particularly large set of men, Rinoa got a clear view of the bar and decided it would be futile to try and find a seat with this many people already standing around. Someone was pushing her from behind, another man had noticeably bad hygiene and it was almost sad that she could pinpoint who it was from a distance--he had been given a nice, circular clearing.

Rinoa was on the verge of feeling terribly sorry for herself again, for it really had been quite a _bad _day and she still just wanted that bed, coffee, and shotgun, when the back of someone's head caught her attention with its short, blonde hair. '_Hmm,'_ her mind thought groggily, '_that looks familiar.' _Then something clicked and Rinoa's mouth dropped. Seifer!

Her luck seemed to have taken a huge turn. Oh, she had never been so happy to see the jerk in her life! If she could... just... get past... these people... Growling in frustration, Rinoa tried to call out to him, but her voice was lost in the already high volume of other people. '_Curse these pigs who get drunk and insist on yelling!'_ she fumed, still struggling and calling. '_We'll see who likes loud noises tomorrow morning.'_

"Seifer," Rinoa shouted as loud as she could, a closer man turning to her and giving her a sloppy grin that she supposed was meant to be sexy. "Seifer!"

She was getting closer! "Seifer!"

She saw the back of his head perk up and begin to turn. "Seif--"

Her words were cut off as a gloved hand closed tight around her mouth. '_Damnit!_' her tired mind complained. How many times was she going to get captured today?

Rinoa struggled as a strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her behind and further into the crowd. She watched desperately and helplessly as Seifer turned around, his green eyes scanning the crowd suspiciously, then turned around, having not noticed her. And why was nobody else noticing this very rude intrusion and capture? '_Stupid men!' _she thought with self-declared rationality, before she noticed that the situation was becoming more serious. Whoever had her was making his way toward the exit. Not a good sign. At least if he tried killing or raping her inside, _someone _would have to notice--and maybe put a stop to it. Outside, she recalled despondently, was cold and wet and _dark_, where anything could happen and go unchecked. What a fool she had been, to call out so loudly!

Rinoa persisted to wrestle her way out of the man's grip, or at least try to anyway. It seemed of no use, for as he reached the door his grip was ever strong, coming to the point of pain; her captor was unrelenting as they stepped out into the rain.

Adrenaline ran through her veins, the cold air no longer becoming a painful nuisance, allowing her to violently resist the man's pull. Still, he led her backwards down the sidewalk and then into the dry confinement of a small alley.

'_This is it_,' Rinoa thought to herself. '_Say a fond farewell to your virgin honor, Rinoa, and try not to sound too regretful, I'm sure your pride has been abused enough today. Besides, if things go right, you can just bite down...'_

Rinoa peeked as much as she could over her shoulder into the street and saw the light of the bar reflect in the rain, then disappear quickly. Someone had stepped outside! Hope refilled her as her struggles revived to full throttle.

BBB

Seifer paused. Did someone just call his name? He turned, eyes traveling over the heads, but he saw no one familiar. Shifting back to his original slumped position, he downed the last of his drink. But the voice _had_ sounded familiar--that sweet chime he had hoped to hear for so long. Setting the empty glass down and pinching the bridge of his nose, Seifer stood, his chair skidding noisily against the bar flooring. Above the crowd he watched the door at the exit open and close. Narrowing his eyes, Seifer fought through the crowd to investigate.

BBB

Her captor had apparently noticed as well, for Rinoa's back was suddenly thrown against the wall, the space in front of her disturbingly invaded by the man as he pressed his form against her. Rinoa closed her eyes and tried to forget the pain of the strong hand wrapped around her mouth and the solid body forcefully overlapping her own, the man's cloak shrouding them both in darkness.

Squall was working desperately to keep Rinoa calm. It was obvious she had no clue as to who he was and he wasn't sure her reaction would have been any different if she was aware. Had he the time, Squall would have reveled in his luck. If he hadn't stopped at this bar to dry off, he probably would have totally bypassed her.

He had originally been shocked just to find Seifer sitting at the front of the bar, wallowing away in his own stupor most likely. Then he had spotted Quistis near the back. She had been eyeing the door and Seifer, watchful of both. Her blending skills seemed adequate enough, but Squall had noticed her without difficulty. She probably had no idea that she, likewise, was being spied upon.

Then, most astonishing, Squall turned and saw in amazement as another familiar figure stepped through the door and out of the rain--this time his chest tightened in response. He observed carefully as Rinoa hesitated, before making her way through the crowd. With no time to sit and gawk, Squall set himself to work, for the opportunity was too clear. Pulling his hood even further over his face, Squall darted his eyes to the back and noted that Quistis was busily distracted, her apprehensive gaze stuck on Seifer. By the time she looked back to the door, Rinoa was half-way to the bar. It wouldn't end well if she reached any empty spaces where she might be noticed by either Seifer or Quistis.

Moving below the line of shoulders, squeezing deftly through the tight pack of bodies, Squall made his way after Rinoa. By the time he was within reaching distance, she was already bellowing Seifer's name. Much to Squall's relief, the great oaf was oblivious to Rinoa, who was now conveniently hidden from the eyes of Quistis.

Reaching out his hands, preparing to take Rinoa by force, Seifer began to turn. _Shit!_ Making a great leap from his stealthy position, Squall caught Rinoa around the mouth, muffling her last attempt to call Seifer, and dragged her back behind the veil of the crowd, screening both of them from view.

Squall made quick work of getting to the door, barely a person sober enough to pay them heed. Once outside and back in the rain, Rinoa still frantically kicking, Squall dragged her into the alley, just in case they _had_ been seen. Good thing he had, for nearly as soon as he veered down the corner, the bar door opened.

Rinoa was still fighting with all her heart, desperate to make any noise to alert the man she just saw walk slowly by the alley. She tried to call for help, but it only came out as a muffled "HHMMPPH!" The grip around her mouth tensed and she suddenly felt as if her jaw would break under the pressure. His other hand constricted against her upper arm. Her captor had pressed into her more firmly when Seifer's form walked by, her breath heavy by the force he was asserting to her chest.

'_This is it_,' she thought, when suddenly the man's head lowered, his shadowed face nearly pressed to the side of her own. "Shhh," his deep voice whispered against her ear and Rinoa felt a rogue shiver run down her spine. The constriction of his hand loosened slightly and Rinoa gasped for breath, the majority of air rushing through her nose.

It was a few moments more before Rinoa dejectedly realized that Seifer was long-gone, but the man holding her against the wall still refused to let himself up off of her. His face was still scant inches from her own, heat of his breath tickling the side of her cold cheek. To her distress, she was becoming hypersensitive to the warmth radiating off his body and onto her own. She would have reprimanded her body if she could for enjoying it so much. He was so close; she could smell the scent of him rolling out from under the hood, spices mingled with the something dark, like the musk of ancient pines in a sunless forest. '_Odd_,' thought Rinoa, for the scent was curiously familiar and she felt a comfort steal over her--as much of a comfort as could be had pressed between a stranger and a wall.

Squall was not sure what was holding him suspended, but he could not break the bond. She was so close; so safe and unharmed and helpless against him. His mind clouded over with a mixture of relief and a strange, possessive satisfaction. He had been denying what he thought had already come to pass; that Rinoa was forever out of reach, forever gone...

A moment later, the hand around her mouth had completely loosened and only lingered limply against Rinoa's mouth. A trembling coursed through her body and settled in the pit of her stomach as fingers gently traced her shaking lips. She could not bring herself to make a sound as she felt eyes watching her from beneath the hood, dark and intense. She felt as if her body had betrayed her, for this fluttering in her stomach had become quite insistent--and she didn't even know this man!

Those thoughts with a few other rational complainers flew out the window with Rinoa's breath as the man's hooded head lowered even closer. She could feel the brush of soft lips against her ear, moving to her chin, then her throat, where they hovered just above the junction of her neck and shoulder. She waited, suspended, able to scream for help, but she did not.

His body suddenly shifted the fingers against her lips to run down the side of her chin, tilting her head away from him. She heard him inhale, and then sigh, the burst of warmth stopped her lungs and her knees grew watery. Then he spoke, words so soft they could barely be heard over the distant rainfall. "Rinoa..." he breathed against her huskily.

Rinoa felt her world tilt and she gasped. It was _his_ voice! This was _him_, pressing himself against her, cradling her head softly, lips tantalizingly close. "Squall," she whispered in return, her voice trembling so bad she hardly knew if she could speak.

And at the sound of his name so softly from her mouth, her pulse thrumming excitedly against him, Squall let his lips lower to her neck.

Rinoa fought for air. It was almost an innocent gesture, but she felt so intimately indulged. At that moment, when his mouth gently fell to her tender flesh, all her doubts and angry thoughts towards him had evaporated to be replaced by complete and total comfort, as well as something more--primal.

Squall had no idea what he was doing or why, but that did not stop him. A long-neglected thirst was finally being quenched as he inhaled her sweet scent, tasted her salty, rain-soaked flesh. He was fast losing himself in the whole of her and felt his mouth, no longer under his rational control, move of its own accord. He stopped at the tender skin of her neck and suckled softly, his mind floating outside itself.

Rinoa was falling swiftly as well. She pushed her face into his embracing palm, giving him better access to her neck, and, finding a free hand of her own, held onto the front of his sweatshirt. She squirmed against his unyielding form, her well-hidden desires beginning to rise to the surface. Releasing her other hand, she reached up and, pulling back his hood to finally reveal his whole face, let her frozen fingers tangle themselves into his wet locks.

Squall released a low growl at the feel of her hands so intimately weaving through his hair. His free hand reached down to her waist, frantically searching for the hem of her shirt. When he did find it, his hand delved beneath and smoothed along the cold, shivering flesh of her stomach, rising. But then fingers brushed something and the logical part of his mind demanded it be put back into command. His sudden lust being pushed back firmly into place, Squall jerked his head away from Rinoa, leaving her to whimper at the loss of him.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still under her shirt. Ignoring Rinoa's flushed, confused expression, Squall carefully raised her shirt to see the gauze bandages wrapped tightly around her midsection. Just barely, even in the dim lights of the bar, he could make out the blood beginning to bleed through. His heart froze in terror as his mind reeled with what kind of conditions she was in, despite the fact that he had been holding onto a very-much-alive-and-kickin' Rinoa.

Rinoa looked down to find whatever evil source had distracted him, and found the wet bandaging. He must have broken the skin when he was against her and she apparently hadn't noticed until now. "Oh," was all she managed to say, stupidly.

There was a long, _very_ awkward moment with Rinoa still pressed to the wall and Squall lifting her shirt dangerously high. Rinoa felt like saying 'So what now? Back down to business?' but promptly swatted that out of her mind. She ran a quick course through her head, trying to find what had happened before this lovely onslaught and suddenly remembered that Quistis was waiting for her in the bar. But what was she supposed to do now? Just say 'Well that was fun and certainly a tease, but look at the time, I've got to go! Lets do this again sometime!' Squall wouldn't fall for that one, and neither would she.

As much as she hated herself for it, she _wanted _to go with Squall, _wanted_ to stay in that comfort zone and security. All this pain and realization and weird images moving through her subconscious mind would just disappear with him around. She would readily take their light bickering (and sometimes heavy) over the isolation she had been through the past couple of days. It took this time alone to realize Squall had been with her since the beginning of her trek from home, however unintentional, and they had developed a mutual, if not understanding, companionship.

But still, if she left with him, she would be betraying Laguna's trust. He had helped her so much and without question or prejudice, and she could not just step out of his trust. Her heart tore in two directions. "Squall, I..." she began.

Squall's eyes snapped up, his attention being ripped away from her wound as he lowered her shirt inconspicuously, as if he hadn't just been all over her, reaching beneath the fabric. "Hm?" he inquired as innocently as possible.

"Squall... before you got here, some people really helped me out," she watched his flat expression carefully, "and I made a promise to meet someone."

So _that _was why Quistis kept looking back to the door. He found it hard to believe Rinoa would trust Quistis again so soon after what she had done to her, or maybe Rinoa really was quite oblivious--perhaps not. Perhaps she was going to meet Seifer, but the look of shock on her face when she saw him told a different story. "Who?" Squall remained stoic.

"Um," Rinoa didn't think he would believe her when she told him, "Well, I promised President Loire." She was surprised to see his expression didn't jump in shock or skepticism, only the corners of his mouth barely dropped.

"What did you promise him?" His tone was hard and his stare cold, as if they hadn't just shared a very intimate moment. The situation seemed to be taking a turn for the worse from Squall's perspective. As if her injuries hadn't upset him enough, now he's found out that she's met with Laguna. _Great._

"I told him I would meet someone in this bar that would take me to a safe place," Rinoa murmured, strangely ashamed of herself.

Squall snorted, his eyes drifting to the rainy street thoughtfully. "No matter, you will be safe with me."

A lurking creature jumped in Rinoa's chest at the words and for whatever reason she felt like breaking into tears. "But I can't just..." she trailed off, her voice breaking. Really, today had been too much to handle while still trying to maintain some fragment of sanity.

Squall grabbed her by her arm, leading her to the end of the alley. The rain had lifted ever so slightly, the path back out of the city appeared clear. Turning to Rinoa, he saw the defeated look on her face, staring out into the rain, as if this was the response she expected from him but was hoping against. Narrowing his lips to a thin line--for he truly hated giving in--he shook her slightly to grab her attention.

Wide, watery eyes met his and he felt a twang of remorse. Taking a deep breath, picking out his words before using them, Squall finally spoke, "I know where it is he meant to take you... and I will take you there. When we arrive, I will send a notice through a reliable source to report your position and safety." He watched as her features immediately lit up. To his distress, though, he almost panicked when tears brimmed even higher in her eyes, spilling over and falling over flushed her cheeks. What more did this woman want from him? "What is it?" he tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Th-thank you," she whimpered through her sobs. She would have thrown her arms around his neck had he not growled in annoyance and nearly rip her arm off as he dragged her down the wet street.

A/N: Hot 'n steamy! Well, it can only get better from here, eh? Leave me a review pu-lease!


	19. Roast Beef Sandwiches

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these super-hot characters, SquareEnix does... lucky dogs. I DO own Trenille, but he's not so hot. :(

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know! I think I've used up all my good excuses, all I've got left is, er... college applications? K, I'll use that one. Not that college is an important factor. (Not that my laziness is and important factor either.) Anywho, thanks as always to my lovely reviewers and favoriters and alerters and anyone else I may have missed.

Note to Rin Seren, my lovely beta. Sorry I didn't wait for you to get better so you could correct this. I'm impatient like that. Hopefully we'll see your return not only so my chapters aren't so much crap, but also to read your wonderful story... with which you seem to share the same nasty habit as myself as far as drawing out updates as long as possible.

Chapter 19 - Roast Beef Sandwiches

Trenille rubbed his chin uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the hall. His own city and residence was far greater than Laguna's, but the formality of the atmosphere made his knees weak. He was never good with important assemblies and although he knew Laguna quite well, he couldn't help but worry that he should hold himself in a more proper manner. In his mind, he ran the words of a hurried greeting and tried to map out the predicted conversation, but as soon as he found the words, they fell away from his thoughts. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes in exasperation.

"Good morning," said a cheery voice behind him.

Trenille jumped, having not even noticed the footsteps approaching from behind. He turned and was greeting with a grin and an outstretched hand. Trenille shook it as firmly as he could, but feared Laguna had noticed the quaver of his nerves. Someone in the back of his head kept reminding him how ridiculous this whole reunion was going to sound, and Laguna was not a friend worth losing. "President Loire, it is good to see you again. It's been years."

"Indeed," replied Laguna, his expression a little more stern. "I hope you'll forgive my delay, I've just left a very important meeting. Here, there's no need to stand in the hall." Laguna led them both into a room down the hall. Trenille was expecting something more official, but the room was smaller and adorned with more comfortable, lounging furniture, simple wooden desks, family photos, and a coffee maker in the corner. "Have a seat," said Laguna. "Would you like something to eat? A drink perhaps?"

"No, no, thank you," Trenille waved his hand dismissively and seated himself on a sofa. He folded his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. "I've some things to tell you, Mr. Loire, but I can't know how much you're already aware of. You know me, secluded on my tundra like an island." He gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Since when have you called me by my last name, Trenille? I'm surprised you even know it," Laguna smiled, but his brows were furrowed in a friendly suspicion. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee, but he kept his eyes over his shoulder, watching Trenille shift nervously in his seat. "It may come as a surprise, but I've been quite in the dark for a while now too. It worries me to put my trust into a military when I'm not even sure what's going on."

Trenille nodded absently, but said nothing. Laguna came back and sat across from Trenille, sipping the steaming liquid carefully. He kept a careful eye on the fidgety man, but continued anyway. "We're more on the defensive nowadays and Esthar controls less territory than the common man will believe." This information was known to Trenille, as these exact words were spoken years before on their last encounter in Trabia. Then, however, it had been Laguna shifting nervously in his seat, Trenille speaking matter-of-factly in an attempt to coax the burden out of Laguna. Years ago then... and the problem had not even been fixed since. "Galbadia could almost say the same if it weren't for Vinzer, but power is the greatest morality of man, despite its corruption. Not many would trust my own sincerity, though."

"Then perhaps you would trust mine," Trenille suddenly interrupted, his expression determined. Laguna sat quietly, letting the hot mug heat the tips of his fingers. "You have not been to Trabia for a long time," Trenille was saying, "not since your son first left. The city has only grown more beautiful; out art more perfected. I know the kind of man you are, Laguna, but it would still not be my place to ask your forgiveness..."

"Forgiveness for what?"

"Not telling you that at the beginning of last spring... Squall came to Trabia with Galbadian troops. And the girl was with him." Trenille studied Laguna's face, which was unnaturally focused, almost as unreadable as his son's. He always believed Squall had gotten his passive traits from his mother, since his father was just too blithe, but now Trenille could see that they shared more than their sharp looks. "He asked for refuge and I gave it to him."

"When was this?" Laguna asked quietly.

"The beginning of spring. I cannot say the exact date."

"When did he leave? Where did he go?"

"Laguna," Trenille said slowly, carefully, "I've known you for a long time and I know your contempt toward your own war. There is something I've not had the courage to tell you before, for fear that it would be intercepted."

Laguna's face was inscrutable.

"It was me who said to you once that it was dangerous to put your trust into a military without your complete oversight. It would have been best if I had told you earlier, but Trabia has been subject to the brutality of Estharian Mounts for three years at least."

"What?" Laguna replied, shocked.

"The city stands as stone in defense against the flames that burn out the life of all vegetation. Each year they come in spring, usually closer to summer, demanding the whereabouts of the Estharian President's son. I have no knowledge of who gives them such orders, but I've been under the impression that they believe Trabia to have taken Squall for hostage."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Laguna's voice quivered with either disbelief of anger, Trenille couldn't tell which.

"As I've said, I feared a message would have been intervened, and I had not the heart to leave my people in such crisis. The city still stands now, only through a different glory. Your son was there the last time Trabia was raided. I've only assumed he escaped with the girl because that seems to be his specialty," Trenille added with an ironic chuckle. "The remaining Galbadians were returned home by a couple lieutenants, who, might I add, were very unrelenting with their information.

"For weeks I had not known what had become of your son or the girl, so I kept quiet. I took faith he would return to you and I gave him an open door to come back to me if the need should arise. At the time I spoke with him, he was bitter as usual, but mention of returning to Esthar only inflamed him."

"Mm," Laguna was staring at a wall, lost in thought.

"You know how young people work, though, stubborn to the end and prickly around their hearts. What is dearest hurts most. I don't think he means as much trouble as he causes."

"He loved her like a true sister, you know," Laguna breathed, his eyes now locked with a photograph set on a nearby table. Trenille followed his eyes to the picture. It showed Laguna sitting outside, his hair still dark with youth, a small boy in his lap and a girl clinging to his arm. A woman, beautiful with her long hair and kind eyes, sat on the other side of Laguna, her head on his shoulder. They looked serene, sitting in the grass, time and sorrow restrained from their peaceful content to just be with each other.

Trenille did not know the whole history of Laguna, but his warm disposition and the simple-life artifacts draped everywhere in the Presidential Housing suggested a happier, uncomplicated life before the wars. Trenille had never met Laguna's wife, Raine, personally before her death, for that was before Laguna unwillingly stepped into office. He had known Squall and his adopted sister, Ellone, while they were growing up. Trenille had never seen Squall completely at ease with life as he appeared in the photograph and Laguna could only hint toward Squall's deep bond with Raine before he became choked up and uncomfortable himself. In the time Trenille knew her, Ellone had seemed at peace enough just to be with her father and brother.

Trenille imagined that Ellone had died peacefully as well in the tranquility of her home in Winhill, but the details were foggy and Squall's withdrawal and contempt towards his father suggested a harsh accusation and misunderstanding that had never quite healed. Squall had still been in his mid-teens when it happened, but his hatred for Laguna only seemed to strengthen with each passing year, until he sought his own means of vengeance. Whether Laguna knew what Squall was trying to do or not, the President had not divulged any information to anyone, not even his closest.

Trenille coughed, breaking the nostalgic trance Laguna seemed to have fallen in. Laguna's blue eyes were solemn when he looked up, painful memories resurfaced, the wounds rubbed raw by the reality of the situation. "I've been a fool, Trenille," whispered Laguna, "to have even taken this job. It was not made for me, and I not for it. I cannot stand the destruction of so many lives, so I've hid myself behind a veil and pretended nothing really bad was happening. But it was, and things have gotten out of hand while I live in peaceful ignorance. I never meant to do your city harm, Trenille, and it is me who needs forgiveness."

Trenille wrung his hands self-consciously. This was not going as he had planned. In a certain respect, he hoped he had brought light to Laguna's side of the conflict, but nothing had truly been solved. "The reason I've come was not to throw you into despair, although I hope now you will truly take the defensive."

"As I thought it had been," Laguna's voice was strong now, a rare moment of assertiveness shining through. He tested a grin and it came as easily as it always did, though darker thoughts swirled behind. He raised his mug to his lips and took a large gulp, thankful for the caffeine. "Tell me why you've come then."

"I've recieved a message from the most unlikely of sources. But before I tell you exactly what I've been told and you force this crazy old kook out of you office, you must promise to give this to your son. I trust you know where he is." Trenille reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, pulling a small, rusty object out between his fingers.

Laguna eyed the scrap metal cautiously and only reached for it when Trenille stretched it out toward him. Aged fingers dropped the artifact into Laguna's open palm, the weight surprisingly heavy for its fairly small size. It was extremely old, the finer details barely discernable, but was in the overall shape of a cross, the bottom pointed and the top rough where it had been broken off from something. "Yes," said Laguna, running his thumb over the dirty surface, clearing some of the grime away, "I suppose I do know where he is. I suppose I've always known."

Trenille smiled a little sympathetically and rubbed his hand on his pants, as if ridding his flesh of the cross' taint. "Laguna, what I have to say is very important - important enough to not be for your ears. I am an old man, you see, and it is only you that I can place my trust into to find Squall and tell him what I am about to tell you." He held Laguna's gaze with unwavering strength that had not been present for his whole stay yet. "I have spoken with a goddess, Laguna, and she told me all the ways the world may turn, and it is only through the girl your son dutifully fortifies that the world will continue to turn with life."

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Rinoa awoke to the rhythmic humming of the airship's engines. She blinked a few times, clearing the dreams from her mind and establishing her whereabouts. The room was small and dark, except for the dull luminescence of floor lights shining on the two steps that led up to the door. They throbbed slowly in the darkness and even though she still wasn't quite sure what was going on, Rinoa felt a peaceful calm wash over her. Too many times in the recent past she had been subject to either total darkness or blinding brightness. The low-key illumination of the metal walls and the thrumming of mechanisms was strangely comforting, almost putting her back to sleep.

Rinoa didn't allow herself to fall back into oblivion, however, and sat up instead, wincing at the pain. She lifted her shirt and ran her fingers over the newly replaced gauze. Her wrists had been lightly bandaged as well. Vague memories pulsed through her mind, but fled from her grasp. She scanned the room again and a short wave of fatigue ran through her, but she determined herself to find out where she was first.

Sitting up fully, Rinoa rubbed the sleep from her eyes and patted the top of her head, trying to figure how much of an afro she had given herself in her sleep. Her hair was still damp and she suddenly recalled the rain and the bar. And she was trying to meet someone... Laguna! Or at least, someone sent by him. Rinoa frowned, why was she having such a hard time remembering what had happened the night before? She moved to push her hair off her shoulders, but her fingers brushed her neck painfully, making her gasp. Delicately, she ran her fingers over her tender flesh, feeling the sore area and the slight grooves. Teeth marks, she realized with dawning remembrance.

Rinoa sat stock-still with wide eyes, feeling heat rush to her face when she recalled what had happened outside the bar the night before. Her chest tightened when picturing herself pinned between the wall and Squall's imposing form, his scent and strength rendering her helpless, his soft lips upon her flesh, his searching fingers...

Rinoa swallowed a lump, finally piecing together the loose ends of her memory. She had been led all the way out of the city, through the thick mud of the desert outskirts, and into a large red airship she could barely see in the darkness of the night. She remembered stumbling on-board, catching a glimpse of Zell and Irvine, then being dragged into a tiny infirmary. She must have passed out after that, for her mind only gave her blank images and wisps of distorted dreams.

So, she concluded, she was in some sort of vehicle now, going somewhere... safe, wasn't it? She thought of home, so far away that it hardly seemed like the same life. There was a numbing sensation, as if her chest had been packed with ice until the burning cold of longing turned to a dull throb, the sensation frosted away to near nothingness. New things made her feel secure now; things she was still unwilling to examine further.

The inside of her ribs may have been unresponsive, but Rinoa's stomach was very much awake and angry. It growled at her in disdain and the pang of hunger that followed suggested her stomach was going for the intestines if she didn't find food herself.

Standing carefully, Rinoa shuffled her way to the door, pressing her feet heavily to each glowing step. It was then that she noticed she was wearing loose flannel pajamas. It was not so much the question of where the clothing came from that bothered her as did the question of how she got into them. Humiliation crept back into her face and she would have gone back and hid under the covers for shelter from her own embarrassment had her stomach not taken a bite out of the liver.

Rinoa ran her hand over the cool metal door, looking for a handle, but to no avail. Her heart stopped at the thought of being imprisoned again, but her fingertips grazed a small latch on the wall beside the door. She pulled it gently and the door released a quick breath of air, clicked and whooshed open with a _thud_ of finality. Rinoa paused for a moment, marveling at the technology that she was still so foreign to, then continued into the hallway.

It was not long before she was hopelessly lost, wandering down corridors that looked strangely the same. She had only the dull echo of her feet as company, and she was about to give up and admit she was traveling in circles when she came to a room with an elevator tucked into a wall. Stepping inside, she could imagine everyone's face as she came into the room, decked in pajamas and a rat's nest for hair. That was, assuming everyone was on the second floor.

The elevator hummed as it rose a level, then chimed as the doors opened. Rinoa walked out, uncomfortable, and looked around. Nobody. Strange, she thought, walking further down the hall. She opened one last door and stepped through, almost as impatient as her stomach. A snort of disdain almost escaped her when she realized just what she was looking at. A huge window stretched across the front of the cabin, running along the sides of rows of seats filing back to where Rinoa stood. The windows fogged with white, then rapidly cleared to the blue of the sky, the clouds distant and immediate all at once.

Hunger forgotten, Rinoa rushed to the nearest window and pressed her face to the glass, looking down into the eternal blue of sky meeting the ocean. She couldn't help but smile at the wonder of being so high above the world, moving through the white puffs of clouds that were impossibly far from below, now just inches away from her face. She made her way to the front of the room where the taller window opened to a wider view, giving her a slight feeling of vertigo. In the distance she could see mountains sitting on top of the blanket of clouds, their dim peaks so small and harmless above the white ground, though she knew they must be monstrous to reach so high.

"Sleep well, Duchess?" asked a voice behind her. Rinoa pushed her face away from the glass and turned, embarrassed. Irvine was sitting low in one of the seats, his feet reclining on the armrests of the seat beside him.

Rinoa didn't know whether to be happy, angry, or relieved to see him, so she flatly replied, "I wasn't expecting to see you ever again."

Irvine answered with a wide grin, his cowboy hat falling down on his forehead as he leaned back. "Well then, I'm glad to see you too. Take a seat." He patted the cushion next to him, letting his legs slip off.

"I'd really rather stand," Rinoa said, her mind working in frantic circles. "You..." she began, slowly. "You and Zell aren't part of the Galbadian military... are you?"

Irvine's smile faltered as he gave a drawn out sigh. "Knew you'd realize it eventually."

"And you also knew what was going on. With me, I mean."

Irvine gestured to the seat again and this time Rinoa took it, her expression held in careful curiosity, yet retaining something darkly accusing. "We knew the basics," Irvine consented. "I don't know if it will come as a surprise or not, but much of what's happened was underdeveloped and not well laid out. I would've easily protested if I could have foreseen all that was going to happen. I mean that in respect to what you went through and how much miscommunication there now is between the warring nations." He looked at her earnestly and saw a guarded trust reach her eyes.

"Why didn't you leave with Squall and I in Trabia?" asked Rinoa. "I had no way of knowing if you were alive."

"That would be one of the misfortunes I had no control over. Trust that I would have left if I had known, but Squall just... took off. He has a tendency to do that, you know. Half the time I can honestly say his head is up his ass," Irvine laughed lightly and coaxed a relaxed smile out of Rinoa. "The only reason I've followed him thus far is because I've known him for almost my whole life and, frankly, he has the potential to move the pieces of the world like pieces on a chessboard. And it's always a good idea to be on the winning side."

"And which side would that be?"

Irvine chuckled and raised his hands helplessly. "The Squall-side I suppose."

"I don't get it. Why does he have so much power?"

"For starters, he has you." Irvine watched a darkness pass through Rinoa's wide eyes.

"In that case," she replied bitterly, "there could be a Rinoa-side too, if I should choose to leave and develop my own brigade."

"Not quite, Sweetness. I don't mean to be rude, but you don't know how to carry yourself in the world of power. You may have potential, but you don't know how to use it."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed. Did you not just have the chance to prove yourself on your own?"

"Well that wasn't fair," Rinoa protested. "I had no idea where I was or how to get anywhere. I was in a foreign country without and resources or direction."

"The whole world is a foreign country compared to where you came from. It's no mistake you lived a rural life in a no-name village."

"Hey," Rinoa said hotly, "what's that supposed to mean? It wasn't a no-name village. And what do you mean 'no mistake,' like I was planted there?"

"Well..." Irvine grimaced and tapped his chin nervously.

"What?"

"So I was saying," Irvine continued hurriedly, "Squall can get his hands on practically all the resources he needs. You, my dear, being one of them. Although it's not clear, you hold massive potential for something that may well be devastating. You're like a loaded gun, but you see, guns can't wield themselves. That's what Squall is for. He may be an idiot most of the time, but at some point, you've got to learn to put your trust into him. At least of a little while."

"I'll bet," remarked Rinoa dryly, her previously derailed thoughts leaving the station again. "Here's what I really want to know: who gives Squall all this power? Who gives him access to resources? Who is keeping him from being arrested?"

Irvine laughed softly and leaned back in his seat, pulling his hat all the way over his face. "You'll have to ask him that yourself. Family feud is not my thing."

"Irvine! Tell me," Rinoa whined, shaking him until he groaned in protest. He lifted the corner of his hat, scrutinizing her with his one visible eye.

"You really want to know?" he asked.

"I do. Tell me, pu-lease?" Rinoa batted her eyelashes expertly.

"No she doesn't," said a dark voice the doorway warningly. Irvine grimaced as if caught with his hand in a cookie jar and quickly replaced the hat, remaining silent. Rinoa poked her head over the seat, glimpsing Squall leaning against the door frame with a scowl and a raised brow. "And I believe I heard something about an idiot," continued Squall. "Please, Irvine, elaborate."

"Aha," Rinoa laughed nervously, though she found nothing humorous about the situation. "Yeah, well, I've got to go." With that, she stood and hurriedly walked out the door, her face turned purposely toward the wall as she squeezed past Squall.

Squall watched her pass by, almost ruefully. Coughing as she made her way out of sight, Squall strode into the cockpit and sat behind the controls with an audible sigh. "I don't need you making matters worse," he stated offhandedly, busying himself with coordinates.

"How am I supposed to know what she's allowed to know?" Irvine replied, slightly irritated. Squall didn't answer and Irvine sat up, pulling his hat into his lap and letting his eyes fall to the window. "I feel bad for her," he continued quietly.

"I'm sure you do. You've been more concerned with her personal feelings than with the business we've got to get done," Squall said with a huff. "I'm beginning to wonder when you left your position as first-in-command and became Rinoa's maid, fussing about this and that in response to things that make hardly a difference if they were attended to."

Irvine chuckled mirthlessly. "Man, you've _got_ to get a little something called a heart. And you need to learn some better social skills. The most successful people in life are ass-kissers to some degree."

"My father was no ass-kisser and look where he is. "

"Your father was and still is a people-pleaser, which is close enough. That's why he's still where he is right now, signing treaties and declaring wars instead of being back home, signing his books and declaring his love for life. Rinoa, though I'm sure you've never seen it, is a people-pleaser as well. You've just got to push the right buttons, if that's how you want to put it."

Squall turned in his seat, giving Irvine a steely glare and stating skeptically, "Are you saying Rinoa's going to become president because she's so sweet and kind and unsuspecting? I've seen how far she can get on her own."

"Of course I'm not saying that," Irvine waved his hand dismissively. "If you want to look at it in that respect, it's the people-pleasers who get taken advantage of, as you've witnessed in a couple cases. And those behind such people would be the ass-kissers."

"You said they were the same thing; the same kind of people," Squall replied, vexed and confused.

"No, I said they were _close_. Puppet and puppeteer may have different personalities, but they are made up of the same person, both building up to the same goal. It's a predictable act, really. A ventriloquist knows how to insult themselves and feel good about it."

"Since when have you been so metaphorical?" Squall asked critically.

"Since you've started needing some good advice," Irvine retorted, meeting Squall's eyes evenly.

"I suppose you expect me to go up to Rinoa and ask what she knows and where we have to go next, and if I ask _nicely_ with a bit of flattery, she'll be tripping over herself to give me answers."

"I hope you're not serious," Irvine replied, rolling his eyes. "If she learns to like and trust you now, she'll be less resistant to your inquiries in the future."

"I do not mean to go out of my way for her sake," Squall stated dryly, though something inside him lurched awkwardly.

"You know," said Irvine, shaking his head, "You're too condemning about everything. If you have to go two inches out of your line of personal approval, you throw a fit. Or run away. Whichever."

Squall growled and stood. "Watch your tongue, Irvine. You may be a friend, but Iwon't hesitate to dismiss you if I feel you're a threat to what we're trying to accomplish."

"A threat?" laughed Irvine incredulously, putting his hands up defensively. "I'm just trying to help. It's not my problem if you can't handle a little constructive criticism." Irvine watched Squall turn to leave, but grabbed him hard by the wrist as he passed, despite Squall's visible snarl. "So far, Commander Leonhart, it's you whose the only threat."

Squall's lips twitched angrily as he ripped his arm from Irvine's grip. As he stormed out of the room, Irvine replaced the hat on his forehead and leaned back, sighing with an air of finality. "And that, my friend, is why you're an idiot."

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It took about fifteen more minutes for her to find the kitchen. Only it wasn't a kitchen, but more of an indoor closet with a small table in the middle. She only realized it was the room with food after opening nearly every door she came across, one occupied by a snoring Zell. That alone almost gave her incentive to give up her search for fear of what worse things she could run into, but her stomach protested violently until she continued on her search.

Rinoa opened a cupboard and scanned the boxes of dried goods and the cans of soups and vegetables. Everything looked so good, but she didn't want to leave a visible trail that she had been snooping around the food without permission. She was in the habit of avoiding opening new packages when trying to be sneaking, learning how to steal her mother's personal snacks in small, unnoticeable intervals and never finishing something off. So she continued to search.

She was about to give up and just tear open a box of cookies and admit to the crime when the door creaked open behind her. Rinoa nearly jumped out of her skin, practically throwing the oreos back with the rest of the food and slamming the cupboard shut. If that wasn't obvious enough, then her painfully obvious expression gave her away as Squall examined the scene.

"What are you doing?" he asked slowly, looking around suspiciously.

"I, uh... nothing really. Just, hehe, looking around," Rinoa replied weakly, biting her bottom lip as she grinned uncomfortably and waving her hand to indicate her self-tour. Squall looked at her for a moment, unconvinced, before Rinoa cast her eyes to the side and found that food was worth being reprimanded. "I was going to get some food," she conceded.

"Ah," Squall nodded slightly, still studying her. Irvine's words were swimming through the back of his mind like a very annoying, yet tempting plague. "Well, uh, I don't suggest oreos for a meal, but if that's what you want..."

"Oh no," Rinoa chuckled, a little more relaxed. "Ijust didn't want to make a mess with anything more, well, prone to make a mess."

"It's alright, that's why we have Zell," Squall's attempt at humor elicited a huff of indignity from Rinoa, but her expression was jesting.

"That's mean," she said with a small smile, hands on her hips.

Squall shrugged, feeling a sense of ease return between them. He walked to the opposite side of the room and unlatching a small door in the wall that opened into a small refrigerator.

"I didn't even see that and I looked around twice," commented Rinoa.

"Yes, well, hunger is a daunting creature of deceit should you seek it's company for long enough," Squall stated as he reached in, pulling out a loaf of bread and some other packages, placing them on the small table in the center of the room.

"I don't think Iwould ever be guilty of 'seeking' hunger. Not after what I've been through."

"Roast beef is okay?" Squall asked, holding up a package.

"Yeah, that's fine." Rinoa leaned against a nearby cupboard and watched him make sandwiches, not believing it was Squall in front of her. It was as if someone else had stepped into his body. She couldn't tell if he was trying to be nice or if it was coming out of him naturally. He never seemed the kind to _try_ to be anything other than how he felt - which was usually grouchy - but for whatever reason, something had come over him since that last she had been with him in Balamb. She wouldn't say it was a new persona, but she dared not brush the idea that his hard attitude had diluted somewhat. The thought was on forbidden territory for both of them.

His posture appeared more at ease, she concluded while watching him, the rigid formality of his shoulders loosened so that he stood with most of his weight on one foot. She had never noticed before how he had stood in symmetrical balance with a set and unrelenting alignment of both character and body. Perhaps it was the causality of his stance now that made her realize it, or the pronounced dip of his narrow waist as he stood to one side that made her want to point out differences to herself.

She couldn't help but examine everything about him, encouraging a fist that had always been in her chest when around Squall to clench even more firmly. She didn't want to call him beautiful, as if that might evoke a frown of disapproval from him should she speak her thoughts aloud, but she could find no other word that matched so well. Her gaze was resting on his hands, so deftly splitting the bread into halves, handling the knife with expert care, when his actions stopped and Rinoa had to shake herself awake. She glanced up to find that he was staring at her intently, as if waiting for an answer, which, she concluded, he might be. Reflexively, she asked "What?"

"I asked if you wanted mayonnaise."

"Oh. Yes, please," she smiled uneasily, ashamed of her thoughts and in grateful relief he couldn't read her mind. Although he might as well have been able to, for as obvious her ogling had just been. Again, her mind traveled back to the night before when she was so close she could feel the heat of him radiating around them like thick steam in the rain. Her eyes fell back to their previous focus on Squall's working hands, imagining their strong, yet gently seeking touch again. If there had been no disturbance, how far would things have gotten? Where else might his calloused hands have traveled? Where else might his moist lips have grazed?

Rinoa swallowed, trying to ignore the gathering force that settled hotly in the pit of her stomach. She was beyond the point of asking herself what was wrong with her, too busy trying to dismiss her stirring thoughts. Her eyes met his again, glazing beneath his inquiring stare and beckoning to a beast she knew not how to tame, but only to feed. She was dimly aware that his lips were moving, that perhaps he was talking to her again. Somewhere, a tiny voice nagged and prodded until Rinoa drew a shaky breath, forcing the air into her lungs as if her ribs seemed incapable of movement without her mental instruction. The oxygen pulsed through her head and opened her ears to the pressing silence of the room. Squall had taken a half-step toward her, his brows furrowed in concern. "I'm fine," Rinoa reassured, holding up a hand to fend him - or maybe herself - off if his proximity grew too close. "Just hungry, that's all."

"Then eat. I said it was ready," Squall replied, a little tersely, as if just now realizing his worried gesture. "I don't need you collapsing. I've had to carry you around enough." With his own sandwich in hand, Squall promptly left the room, leaving Rinoa with her own demons as well as his.

Growling in frustration, Rinoa took a bite out her sandwich, which only revived her stomach's pangs. She chewed absently, wondering at herself and the unpredictability of everything when she was around Squall. Never before had a person's name fit so well.

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"So, uh, how much longer?"

"Why, you got a date?"

"Maybe."

Irvine laughed and leaned over the control panel, running his fingers along a projected map with a little red dot moving over it slowly. Rinoa was looking over his shoulder, trying to add up numbers and figure out proportions. It would have helped if she knew where on the map they were headed to...

"Six, seven more hours maybe."

"What? That's forever."

"No, darlin', forever's much longer. Did you ever hear about that bird that carried stones-"

"I don't wanna hear it." Rinoa sat down in a nearby chair with an audible grunt, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Sulking doesn't make the trip any faster."

"Well we've been traveling all day! And this thing goes how many hundreds of miles per hour?"

"Would you like to walk?" Irvine smirked.

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"Of course not!" he replied, putting his hand to his chest as if wounded. "Poor, little Rinoa gettin' all wet and tired outside while I sit all cozy warm inside? I couldn't bear the sight."

"Uh-huh," Rinoa said dully, her expression incredulous. She turned to look out the window, but the sky was still blanketed with heavy black clouds that whipped by, rain-droplets splattering the glass spastically. She didn't recall why they had to go around the storm, something about a loose panel and updrafts on the unstable wing. Whatever, it didn't make much sense when Irvine told her, it wouldn't make any more if she asked again. "Well," she said with an air of finality, "since some people like the scenic route and others simply couldn't care, I'm going to take a nap."

"Sweet dreams," Irvine chimed as she left the cockpit.

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Squall was in a large room near the back of the ship, though the space was severely cramped by the piles of documents, books, and random boxes of junk. He had a map laid across an emptied space on the center table, though only a fraction of it was flat as the rest flopped over old stacks of files. Leaning back to examine the map as a whole, distorted by ripples, he sighed and drew a nearby straight-edge onto the canvas. Carefully, he aligned a side against the graphite markings of an earlier-drawn line, then moved it down a centimeter or two. Chewing the end of his pencil thoughtfully, brows furrowed, Squall bend over the map and dragged the tip of his pencil lightly against the straight-edge, creating another line within the matrix of previous mappings and calculations. Lifting the tool away from the paper, Squall surveyed his work in menial hope that one tiny line had made all the difference... which it hadn't. The slop of pencil lines, pushpins, and red follow-me lines all ran into random directions and countless dead ends.

Sighing, Squall sank into the chair waiting patiently behind him. Months of work and accomplishments may have presented prizes at the moment, but things were susceptible to change drastically, especially with his world hanging by such delicate threads. He needed time to think; another universe to sit in and let things settle down and into place.

Though he really wished to have avoided it, Winhill would be the ideal location to lie low and stay out of sight. But he hadn't been there in years and the memories were not quite so forgiving. The small piece of land he currently owned was not the same he had known as a child, but the rural life still rubbed him raw in some places. Squall pinched the bridge of his nose irritably. He couldn't let petty things like the past disrupt him now.

He knew, however, that he was lying to himself; knew that he was being hypocritical. This whole mess was because of the past. Events he couldn't make himself forget, he thought he could rid through irrational actions and a burning vengeance he hoped would save the world and prove an all too obvious point. Just after a few years and Squall had already been able to see himself as a fool of a child, not the child of a fool. He had made a mistake, that much he had known for long enough, yet he only built upon it further and further with denial and stubborn contempt. In the beginning of all this, he had promised himself that he would never return to his father's side, his _rightful_ place, as it had been called. At night, secluded and vulnerable to the most dangerous of thoughts, the vow would surface and sear hotly against his conscious, but by morning it was always tucked back away into its harmless domain.

He was too proud, too blind, too frightened to return and find refuge and understanding from the man he wanted to hate. The smiles, however forced by the Estharian President, were an excuse for Squall to hate Laguna so and place the blame on his careless disregard. It was nobody's fault, what happened to Raine and Ellone, save the nature of the world, but Squall found himself horribly comforted by the accusation of Laguna. One good pop in the jaw by Laguna in earlier years would've probably set Squall straight, he mused with dark humor, but he was young and Laguna was too stuck in his own façade and misery to argue back.

So what now? Squall's eyes trailed over the map, landing on the small, unmarked area, where Winhill sat in seclusion. Remorseful as he may have been, Squall's proud inflexibility still would not let him return to Esthar without being at least a little childish first. It would only be a matter of time before Laguna found him in Winhill, and hopefully by then the rest of the world would take it's own deep breath from waiting. Squall would have Irvine return to Esthar for him and relate current conditions to Laguna and send Zell to Deling to inform Caraway of his daughter's safety as well as Squall's intended use for her. That should be enough to settle the General's spine and convince Vinzer to stabilize Galbadian troops and hopefully withdraw from Esthar. And Esthar, if Laguna was any less the dolt Squall gave him credit for, would finally take the reins of his own military and return to some neutrality. The prospect was bold, given that Squall's word alone would be the only means of actually finalizing anything, but the reality of it was possible, given the effectiveness of Irvine and Zell. Squall trusted that those two alone could influence Laguna and his nation and push Balamb out to coax Galbadia back if needed. So would end the hot war and begin the cold. And if all worked out, Squall might be able to cross off number one from his check-off list.

Number two, then: Rinoa. What to do with her in the meantime. There were plenty of prospects Squall was more than tempted to act upon, such as locking them both in a small closet just to see what happened, but his morale curbed his desires. He was losing the battle against himself, he knew, so any inclination toward the girl was dangerous for both of them. She had been more than willing for his touch the night before and the idea of how much more willing she might have been had he not stopped himself sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine that settled to pull at his loins. Squall immediately pushed the heavy ideas from his mind, upset with himself. For the longest time he'd been unable to let his thoughts wander freely, for he eventually always ended up at Rinoa in the end, sometimes in a decent manner, others not so much. She was a plague to his comfort zone and threatened every part of his ideals he had worked so hard to build up. He couldn't understand her, and the enigma of her being was the most perilous for his inquisitive, if not _mildly_ curious nature. When she was around he forced himself to get angry with her, annoyed at her questions, vexed by her tempting innocence - anything just to distract himself from brazenly invading her space, from parting her tender lips with his own, from knowing each and every inch of her curves by heart, from rudely ravaging her wherever she stood...

Squall growled in discontent. His resolutions was slowly crumbling, to his chagrin. He rose from the chair and moved to the door. His intentions were to go find Irvine, though the prospect of another love-and-caring lecture was unwelcoming and Zell was most likely still asleep. Rinoa might be, too, away beneath the covers, her warm body soft and unsuspecting in its slumbers. Slamming the door behind him, Squall decided he would just go sit in the cockpit and idle the time away in Irvine's company. He was realizing that he was no longer safe when alone, for fear he might convince himself to something even more irrational than what he had done in the past. Though it wouldn't be _that_ irrational, would it, to just stop by her room to see if she was alright...? The hallway lights clicked off automatically behind Squall's receding form.

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The woman's lips were moving slowly, the words coming too quickly and out of sync, as if pouring from her mind instead of her mouth. The words were none that Rinoa knew, yet the meaning was perfectly clear. The woman beckoned to Rinoa, a sly gleam in her crystalline eyes and a crooked grin over sharp teeth. The wind pulled at the tendrils of Rinoa's summer dress, mirroring the curl of the woman's finger to come closer. Rinoa took a tentative step forward. The woman smiled in her approval, then turned, hair billowing in the rising wind.

Rinoa thought she looked oddly familiar, in such a way that it turned her stomach to ice. Words filled the air again heavily, and Rinoa rose her eyes heavenward. Through the fog of her dreams, a tiled structure began to waver into life, becoming solid and dark in the waning sunlight. It reached into the clouds, so far that Rinoa couldn't tell where it ended and the sky began. She wanted to ask what it was, but the woman had already approached it. Rinoa followed, but stopped when the woman met the wall and rounded on her, an imploring and urgent expression scarring her soft features. She did not bother to open her mouth again, instead passing the message clearly with the voice of her mind. "The sun is sinking," she whispered. "You must find here, this place, before the night comes." Her hand grazed the endless wall, bits of stone falling under her soft fingers. Rinoa stepped closer and when the woman's hand pulled away, a hollowed etching was left. It rang with the same familiarity as the woman's face.

"How do I get here?" Rinoa asked, but her mouth felt sluggish as the words tumbled out from somewhere distant.

The woman's expression changed, regarding Rinoa skeptically, as if it were a stupid question to ask. She let the innocent inquiry sit in the air between them, then let it drop unmindfully, shifting her attention back to the wall. The edges began to fuzz and the dimensions slanted slightly, but it was hardly noticed in the delirium of the dream. "You cannot open this door," continued the woman, "but nobody can open it without you."

Door? thought Rinoa, tilting her head back to rescan the wall. Then she could see it, the crack that ran down the center - the seam of the monstrous doorway. In all solemnness of the situation, Rinoa couldn't help but think it was obvious she would never get the door open on her own and that nobody else would be able to do so without help.

"Before the night," warned the woman again, fixing Rinoa with a stern glare.

"Where is this?" tried Rinoa once more, but the woman only frowned. The vaporizing mist of Rinoa's dream began to cloud around and the scene was soon lost in a muddled mess of consciousness.

Rinoa felt herself being pulled back into the world , or maybe it was away from it - she could hardly tell. She could feel the warmth of the mattress beneath her as the dull luminescence of the doorstep-lights throbbed gently. That's right, she remembered, she had gone to take a short nap. The drowsiness of sleep still covered her, and as its final threads started to unwind, Rinoa realized that something was wrong. Blinking, she stared above her, where a dark figure loomed. Memories flared in the recesses of her mind and Rinoa's senses snapped into awareness as her body jerked away in surprise. She opened her mouth, but a warm hand covered her lips, imploring her silence. Rinoa paused, then caught the soft outline of his face, earnest and... something else. Rinoa felt relief wash over her, though her speeding heart rate did not slow down in the least at finding Squall sitting so close. She had gotten used to his proximity when they had to share little space together, but she felt alienated and awkward when so willingly placed next to him... especially after the previous night.

A strange emotion crossed Squall's face and it formed a knot in Rinoa's chest. She was unused to reading Squall with ease; the openness of his expression shocked her and she wondered if he knew how vulnerable he looked, despite the little light. She thought to ask him what he was doing, but his hand had not yet moved from her mouth, though it was obvious she was no longer so frightened. She searched his eyes, so hard to see in the near dark, and felt her skin begin peeling away with the intensity of the gaze he returned. It was unusual, a glare she could not identify, and if she had enough time to think it through, she might have labeled it as being lascivious. Her mind was clicking off, somewhere in the the rationale section, while others were coming strangely to life. The soft hand on her mouth moved, slightly, to trace the outline of her lips. The touch was almost clandestine, barely readable if not for Rinoa's heightened senses.

Squall felt the hook in his chest start to reel forward, Rinoa the ignorant angler; this tug-of-war was a losing battle on his side. Her tiny gasp as he leaned forward only inflamed him more as everything behind his eyes tunneled onto her pale skin in the glow. He bent forward, closer and closer, slowly tilting her chin with the guidance of his hand. He could smell every fiber of her, and the soft breath that reached his lips sent tiny flames down his arms. He would have laughed at his own foolishness if only he could breath. He would have left if only he could move away.

Her head fell back easily, malleable to his touch. He was so close. She wanted to push him away, resist the charm that had been tunneling throughout her for so very long. She wished to be strong and force this burden of her heart to safer distances, wanted to give him just the bit of the misery he had given her. But such a treacherous act would only rip the cords behind her own ribs. Instead she let her breath fall in defeat, the air escaping her lungs like doubt out of a decision. When he leaned closer yet, the universe paused in anticipation. When his lips, warm, solid, possessive, fell onto her own, galaxies unraveled. Everything, so in tune to the man over her, collected into one moment and all the years in history diminished.

Squall couldn't help the growl that rumbled up from his chest like rolling rocks. She was too forgiving in her willingness and Squall felt the heat of guilt and dominance wash over him, and he could do nothing but release her lips, press his face into the shelter of her neck, and wrap his arms around her. She whimpered in protest, but soon relaxed into his embrace as he guided her to lay back down onto the bed.

Rinoa waited for him to do something, anything. She waited for words or an abrupt dismissal. She waited for a long while until she felt he would never leave. The moment of impatience sweltered, then suddenly dissipated as she realized she didn't want him to leave. She had gotten used to the idea of sampling pieces of Squall, but never grasping him as a whole. He had never presented the opportunity and Rinoa, as extroverted as she was, dared not seek it out herself. Him here, now, curled around her with his head atop her chest, revealed the child still living within him. Stubborness pulled away, he was left in the middle of a battle with no armour. His only weapon, his stony façade, was willingly put up in some sort of surrender, washing away from the moment. She, now his only stronghold, was being sought, privately, though he had been stationed behind her for quite a while. Rinoa reached with one hand and carefully swept the bangs that had fallen over his eyes, which closed at her touch. He released a sigh of final defeat, and tightened his grip on her.

He could really be quite clingy, Rinoa realized with a small smile. She supposed she had been too, so she at least owed him some bit of peace, though she would have even if he didn't deserve it. Her fingers threaded through his thick locks as he remained still, save for the soft breathing. Closing her own eyes, Rinoa felt the galaxies tie back together and the universe slowly resumed its course.

A/N: Well, not QUITEthe juicy part, but what can I say? I love anticipation! So you all have to suffer with me! Mwahahaha!!!Sorry if some of this chapter was boring. I'm hoping this isn't getting too corny with the dreams and stuff. If so, well too bad for you again. :) Please leave some feedback, I'd love to hear from you all! I take suggestions, so don't be shy. And I PROMISE to update soon, if only to finish this thing.

Warning: Don't get excited for the next chapter... they aren't going to wake up and do it (though that makes me happy to think about)!


	20. The Taste of Armpits

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Final Fantasy VIII.

A/N: Alright, I owe you guys the biggest apology ever. It has been FOREVER since I've updated, months I believe. I've been gone to Japan for all of July, but I had not real excuse not to update before I left. And then all of August I let just brush by. Again, I apologize and hope to make it up to all of my wonderful readers somehow.

A special thanks again to all my reviewers. I love you guys - you're so awesome! You are what makes me get off my lazy butt and write this tedious thing up. Truly I enjoy it.. it's getting started that's the hard part. Anyway, just know that I'm SO thankful for all you're support and wonderful comments!

To my beta, Rin Seren, who loves to complain but can't take any of her own medicine. What are you waiting for woman? Update!!! And I believe I gave this chapter to you to beta, but I never got a return on it. In fact, I'm waiting for you right now online to harass you, but you aren't here. So I'll be hearing not another word from you until you show me some of your own stuff. Oh, and love you!

So here it is ladies and gents, chapter 20:

Chapter 20 - The Taste of Armpits

_Knock, knock, knock!_

"Hellooo? Are you awake in there?"

Rinoa groaned in annoyance, tossing her head to one side and letting her mind come into focus. She looked around, breathing heavy with slight uncertainty. Her chest felt weighed down and when she reached to smooth the covers back, she found why. Squall was resting halfway over her, his head nestled dangerously between her breasts. Rinoa felt heat rise into her cheeks involuntarily. She squirmed beneath the weight that sat painfully on her bandaged stomach.

_Knock knock!_

"Rinoa? Are you in there?"

_Shit_, Rinoa thought in a panic, her hands fumbling blinding back and forth with indecision about where she should go from here. Wake up Squall and face his wrath at her for letting him be caught in her cabin, or attempt to handle the situation herself and slip beneath Squall's awareness. The latter was by far more appealing, but easier thought than done. She silently tucked her fingers beneath Squall's head, lifting it slowly and moving it to the side with such care that she might have been trying to get out of bed without spilling a glass of wine filled to the brim.

Thankfully, Squall was a sound sleeper. As she set his head onto her pillow and rose delicately, the most movement he made was somewhere in the back of his throat, where a gutteral sound escaped. Rinoa winced as she padded to the door, hoping the noise wasn't the first step to a snoring fit.

_Knock knock!_

"I'm coming!" Rinoa hissed into the metal door separating her from the other side. She touched the panel on the nearby wall lightly, allowing her to manually slide the door open only a fraction, hoping to keep out as much light as possible.

Outside, Zell stood with his fist half raised to strike the door again, but upon seeing Rinoa's impatient face peek out, he paused, forgetting where he was going with his hand and decided it was best to leave it hovering in midair just in case he did remember. "Oh," he said dumbly.

"What is it?"

"Huh?" Zell shook his head and dropped his arm. "Um, oh! We're nearly there, about half an hour's time before landing in fact. Just want you to be up and ready in time to unboard."

"Isn't that great!" exclaimed Rinoa with a quick smile that she hoped would send Zell away with the contentment of a job well-done. He didn't move. "Er... is there anything else?" Rinoa tried.

A corner of Zell's lips pulled back slightly with some thought. "Actually, I was hoping you might be able to tell me where Squall went. You see, I've been lookin' for him forever, and it's like he flew out the window or something."

"Eh heh heh, is that so? Well, sorry I can't be of any help. Just woke up you know."

"Yeah I suppose," Zell said, rubbing the back of his head in disappointment. "Welp! You go ahead and get ready, I'm gonna swing around the ship one more time," Zell finished brightly.

"Alright then!" Rinoa replied, thankful that he was finally leaving. She was just beginning to slide the door back into place when a sudden roar reared up behind her and echoed down the hallway like an angry bear. Zell's head swung around to look at Rinoa in shock and confusion, who was also standing stock-still, her eyes wide with horror and her mouth agape in disbelief. Her cheeks glowed scarlet and there was a deathly silence wrapping time into an unending moment of staring stupidly at each other.

"What the-" began Zell slowly.

"Oh ho ho ho!" interuppted Rinoa, thinking as quickly as she could and waving a hand in front of her. "That roast beef can do some real damage, you know? Ah ha ha ha... ahem. Well, gotta go get ready, bye!" And she slammed the door shut, praying to the gods that Zell wouldn't feel the neccesity to go share what had just happened with anyone else.

Standing with her back pressed against the cool metal door, waiting for her heartrate to return to normal, Rinoa let her eyes fall accusingly onto Squall's sleeping form. The bastard must have sleep apnea, Rinoa concluded, as his soft breaths came out as slight choking sounds. Or perhaps it was the way she had laid his head down, his neck bend awkwardly backward. She made a mental note to later inform Squall that she had, to her utmost humiliation, excused his loud snoring for a personal flatulence problem. She didn't want to imagine his face when she told him.

Padding quietly over to the bed, Rinoa seated herself on the edge, listening to the matress groan slightly. Her gaze wandered over Squall's sleeping face, the permanent frown removed momentarily while his mind was flying away to another time and place. Reaching her fingertips to skim the rise of his brows, Rinoa hoped it was somewhere where the swollen moon was his only company, where no demands brought him worry or reason to be angry. She hoped he was really, truly breathing for once in the reality of his delusions, and hoped, somewhere in the dark recesses of her heart, that she was there with him to pluck away his woes. Wishful thinking, she knew, sighing in a distorted defeat. She was walking on a bridge without supports. She was the subject of Squall's life, thrashed about by the whims of his personality, as if it were the unpredictable winds that catch the brush on fire and escort the stormclouds. She no longer knew what to think of him and when she tried, her chest tightened in confusion and a jumble of emotions. At times the very thought of him hurt her like the memory of home. She was scared of the sensations that he evoked, for they lay in dangerous territory that she dare not tread.

Lost staring at his placid form, her hand gently mesmerizing the contours of his handsome features, Rinoa found herself stuck. At once, she recognized how lucky she was, then began to regress to self-pity. Back at Sastugas, she would have died for an adventure like this, but if she had known what would happen to her, would she have still wanted it? Pain and isolation flashed through her mind, where images of a stark room and cruel intentions surrounded her. She could recall her own fear, her present body rising to mimic it at the thought of the separate identity that had sat behind her eyes and in control at the height of the interrogation at the lab. She shuttered at the thought. Her body had no longer been hers, and her mind had been even further from her control. It had been like being pressed helplessly into the ground; there had been little room left in her own body for her as the other had taken over. But that moment may have been what saved her. It had spoken with a frightful confidence that did not cower at the pain as she did. Perhaps it knew it could leave the physical ailments to Rinoa, leaving when it needed to.

Rinoa had felt empty afterward. Some people would claim they felt dead' after a harsh work-out, or in moments of deep emotional stress, but Rinoa could now feel the extent of their exaggeration. They did not know death as she did. She felt she had died somewhere back at the lab, her body like an artifical arm holding onto her and pulling her back when the strange entity had gone. And after that, she had felt more vacant than usual, as if the event had ridded her of something always present but never acknowledged. Even now, it felt as if there was hardly anything left. It was a refreshing sensation, in one perspective, as she felt totally and wholly as herself. She felt cleansed, despite that nothing had truly been solved.

Was all that worth this troublesome man whose demeanor couldn't be more selfish? That was a lie, she knew. Rinoa once felt the truth always came in words, maybe even actions. Only a matter of months had reshaped her, causing her to realize that truths could be read through endless methods. They could be seen through just a glance, and even revealed through their spoken counterparts. Rinoa could sense that sometimes Squall's bite was as heartfelt as on of his rare caresses.

So knowing all she knew now, would she still have walked willingly into Squall's harsh hands back in Sastugas, fallen helplessly into his distant embrace? "Squall," Rinoa spoke softly, pulling lightly at his shoulder. He groaned and rolled over in defiance, evoking a smile out of Rinoa. "Squall, you've got get up, we're almost there." No response. "Squall," Rinoa tired, this time more abrassive, "Zell and Irvine are looking for you and you don't want to know what I told Zell when he stopped by to ask."

This made Squall turn halfway back to her, one eye slitted open. "You didn't tell him I was in here did you?" he questioned groggily.

Rinoa giggled slighly at his response, a little clamp starting in her chest, for she could detect how much he did now want to be caught showing affection for her. Was she that bad of a reputation? "No," she consoled, "I didn't."

"What'd you say then?" Squall rolled all the way over and sat up, studying her face intently.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Rinoa retorted. "Now get out of my bed!" She swatted him playfully, laughing when his face began to turn red at the realization. He scrambled off the mattress and smoothed down his hair. He turned to say something to her suddenly, pausing with his mouth agape, then changed his mind and just walked out the door. Rinoa simply shook her head. Some things would never change with Squall.

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Quistis walked briskly down the long hallway, the heels of her boots clicking with a resounding echo. Her lips were pressed tightly with annoyance as she mentally rehearsed what she was going to say. Stopping in front of the large double doors, Quistis knocked, then began tapping her toes impatienly.

One of the great doors creaked open, an azure eye peeking out at her. She returned the inquisitive look with something close to spitfire. "She didn't show," she stated simply, flattening her palm against the door and forcing it open.

Laguna jumped aside, letting Quistis storm in past him, and closed the door behind her quietly. "Coffee?" offered Laguna.

"Coffee?!" Quistis practically shrieked.

"Perhaps tea then?" tried Laguna, rolling up his rumbled sleeves.

"No goddammit!" snapped Quistis lividly. "How can you be thinking about refreshments right now? Didn't you just hear what I said?"

"Yes," sighed Laguna in defeat, seating himself in the chair behind his desk, swiveling it around so he wasn't facing the angry woman. "We cannot afford to overreact. So I thought I'd offer something to sooth your spirits."

"Because coffee does that," spat Quistis. She walked around to the side of his chair, folding her arms. "I waited _two_ hours after the scheduled time, and she did not show." She watched his profile carefully, judging his carefully guarded expression.

"We cannot afford panic," he stated again, this time barely above a whisper. There was a long, drawn out silence that filled the room like a thick cloud, fogging over their minds. Laguna tapped the edge of his nose thoughtfully for a moment, then let his chin fall into his palm. "I let her go," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "I let her go back into a world that will eat her alive. I had her right here, safe. And look what I do. Am I not a fool, Ms. Trepe?" He glanced up at her.

Quistis shifted her weight, suddenly uncomfortable. She stepped quietly back around to the other side of the desk, taking a seat and folding her hands. "You did what you thought best," she consoled, suddenly feeling awful.

"Indeed," replied Laguna gravely. "It's what I've always done. And look where it's got me."

"You've been a great leader for the people."

"The people?" asked Laguna incredulously, swiveling back to face her. His expression was stern. "I do not know the people. I never have. I think and act as a person, and that's why the public believes me to act on their behalf. I decide for myself, then toil away in this ridculous palace, blind to the true holders of power. My military has taken advantage of me, Ms. Trepe.

"I have talked with a dear friend earlier today. Just after the girl left in fact. Somehow I knew this was going to happen." Laguna opened a drawer from his desk, staring at the contents for a second or so before pulling out the metallic cross Trenille had dropped into his possession earlier. He set it on the tabletop, nudging it towards Quistis, then drawing back his hand as if it were a venemous creature. "Go on," he tempted, "take a look."

Quistis reached out cautiously, picking up the small artifact with a delicate grip. It wasn't ringing any bells. "I don't get what this has to do with Rinoa."

Laguna smiled sharply, but no humor showed through. He retrieved the cross from Quistis, eyeing it for a moment before slipping it back into the drawer, shutting it with a sense of finality. "It has very little and quite a lot to do with her. At the moment, it offers us no help, but it is a good omen nonetheless."

Quistis sat back in her chair, narrowing her brilliantly blue eyes. "You've lost me."

"You see, the world cares little that we wage such disasterous wars," explained Laguna, bouncing his chair slightly into a recline. "We will annihilate each other, and the fragments of ourselves will slowly rebuild from the rubble. We may lose everything we have come to know, but civilization never ends.

"There is an old story I once knew," Laguna continued, "that was said to have come from the very first documents of history. It was called the Book of Griever, and it was an anthology of the beginning of the world. In it are the secrets of life and birth.

"Anyway," laughed Laguna, "I'm getting ahead of myself. So I used to know this story. Very popular indeed - I wouldn't be surprised if you had heard it before. It spoke of the origins of the time when gods were much like regular people, for they waged many wars. Before long, two distinguished sides developed, absorbing strength from their allies until they became superpowers."

"I see the parallels," Quistis commented lowly.

"Mm," Laguna affirmed. His expression grew suddenly dark and his words came out barely above a breath as his eyes forcus somewhere distant. "Before long, two weapons emerged on behalf of each party, titled the Omega and the Ultima. Though never clearly defined, for there were no true survivors, the world was brought to destruction by the chaos and unsatiable hunger of the weapons." A heavy silence filled the room again, the gentle rumble of the air-conditioning now seeming to roar throughout the room. "But that's only a story!" Laguna chimed after a moment, a grin plastered onto his face. "Made up by some bumbling old fools back when nobody had anything better to do with their time."

Quistis laughed uncertainly.

"Although all stories must be taken with a grain of salt," said Laguna, rising blithly from his chair to go pour himself some tea, "they all hold some element of truth. So you must understand, Ms. Trepe, that I have been - regrettably I must admit - employing the brilliant Dr. Odine to reveal the truth of the old book. But it would seem that things have gotten a bit out of hand with the doctor."

"So I've noticed," replied Quistis dryly.

"Yes, it would. I should have been able to easily detect that his modes and methods have been changing. Perhaps he began to feel the discovery was more important to himself alone than to Esthar as a nation."

"I don't see why such a small matter is a huge deal for Esthar," declared Quistis, shaking her head when Laguna lifted the jug of tea in offering. "Shouldn't you have been focusing on more important things. Like your nation's being at war?"

Laguna chuckled mirthlessly. "It has a terrible lot to do with it. Stories about the beginning of the world and a plethora of battling gods are a bit ridiculous. It would be foolish, however, to assume that some of our ancestors did not possess an incredible amount of intelligence and participate in their own skirmishes and wars."

"What are you getting to?"

"The weapons exist, Ms. Trepe, both of them. There is only one person in the world who can point us in the right direction of their resting place, and only one key to open the door to their lair. I have half the key," he motioned to his desk, then took a sip of the hot tea. "I know who has the other half. All we need to do now is rescue the little compass."

Quistis frowned at Laguna's strangely discompassionate attitude. She didn't understand how he could be so calm about everything. Rinoa was gone again, likely to have been recaptured. And Quistis had the sinking feeling that mercy would no longer sit so comfortably with her. She studied Laguna as she stood, tilting her head slightly as he winked at her and resumed sipping his tea. Realization dawned on Quistis suddenly, her eyes widening. "You... you know where she is?" Quistis stammered.

"I have to admit - even if I'm the only one to see it - that Squall is quite predictable."

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The Ragnarok came to a jumbling halt, landing heavily onto the ground and sending up torrents of dust clouds. The joints of the giant airship creaked as it settled into position upon the outskirts of the small, enclosed civilization. Rinoa shifted awkwardly to the side of the cockpit, trying to stay out of everyone's way as they moved about securing the ship and retrieving supplies from compartments hidden within the metallic walls. She settled herself near a window overlooking the small town that sat inconspicuously in the distance. The sky, dappled with dissipating rainclouds, was large and pressing upon the buildings, which raised no higher than two stories, so unlike the imposing structures of the sky-city Esthar, tall enough to pierce the clouds. Here, the land felt too close, for Rinoa was getting used to the idea of ten-story walkways and flying in the airship. The world above suddenly weighed heavier than she remembered. Up above, even for the short duration of the flight, the knowledge and worry that had been slowly gnawing her away to nothing had been left below. It now swirled around her with renewed greed, taking what it could as if afraid she might try to escape it again. Sighing, Rinoa let her forehead press against the cool glass and watched her breath fog the window. At least this place looked green; she was weary of metal and stone and snow.

"You coming?"

Rinoa turned to the ever-jovial face of Irvine, who was waving her over. She mustered a smile in return as he let her in front of him to lead the way. He was talking softly behind her, directing her through the ship between sentences, but Rinoa could hardly hear him. Her mind seemed far away, draped in the mist of another time. She wasn't sure what had pulled her down so suddenly; she thought perhaps it was the short nap that made her disjunct, but the strange emotion was pulling at her as time went on, dragging away her spirit as the wind did to the rainclouds. As she looked around through the interior of the airship, the corners of her vision dimmed and the sandwich from earlier churned uncomfortably in her stomach. She thought strangely to herself, somewhere in the mind that floated free from her emptied body, that this is what Squall went through daily, forcing himself to pay attention and care. The idea only enveloped her with even more remorse. Her knees felt suddenly tired and she stumbled.

Irvine caught Rinoa by the arm, steadying her as she turned to face him. "Are you alright?" he was asking, but she could only tell by the movement of his lips and the concern in his face. He shook her shoulder slightly and her head lolled heavily. Painful arms of misery wrapped around her and tears began to stream from her eyes. Bile bubbled in her throat and she felt a wail of incomprehensible sorrow boil through and fall from her mouth. She did not hear it, for she was becoming deaf to the world, and she was looking at herself from the outside, watching as her despondant form crumpled and Irvine, bewildered and catching her, called out in his silenced voice for help.

Nothing happened for a long time as the world spun slowly out of view, voices coming in and out. Faces, familiar yet alien, hovered near. She could hardly see them through the tears and nothing seemed to matter except the adversity that writhed in her stomach until she leaned over and was sick. Heat pulsed over her in great drafts as hands touched and pulled at her clammy skin. Someone shouted angrily in a voice she knew and she moaned in protest as she was lifted from the security of the floor and was against the warmth of a body. That, added to her own rising temperature, caused the world to dip out of existence.

Everything returned in what seemed like an instant. It could have truly been a millenium, but she would never know. Cool air was rushing past her and it felt refreshing against her sweaty skin. Arms were still holding her firmly against warmth, and Rinoa looked up to see the stern expression of Squall, whose azure eyes stared ahead of him as he marched determinably forward. She caught his eye, and he said something to her, his expression both softening and hardening at the same time, if such a thing were possible. Rinoa mused, in the back of her returning mind, that if there was someone who could do it, it was Squall. "I like it when you're not angry at me," she heard herself say. It was loud in her head and she wasn't sure she had said it out loud, but Squall's guilty and somewhat quizzical expression told her it had come out loud and clear. She might regret that later, she thought mildly in her delirium.

The green of the spring countryside rushed past them, then the tan and brown of houses. Squall pushed on at the edge of a run, but feared the jostling would upset Rinoa's internals even more. The world wove past them at a tantalizingly slow pace. The streets he knew would not come fast enough and the way seemed far, far away. Zell jogged up beside him, jangled a pair of keys, then ran ahead to go open the door to Squall's old house before the rest of them got there. Irvine ran up next, offered to go to the shop for medication, then ran off to the task at Squall's approval.

Then it was just Squall walking as fast a possible with Rinoa again. He mapped out a plan in his head, went over it again and again, yet couldn't satisfy himself. His mind swirled around in circles and repetitions to keep him from panicking. He glanced down. She was gone again, limp in his almost aggressive hold. He wanted to scream at her to wake up again, but his voice couldn't escape past the clenched fist in his chest. His eyes burned with anxiety and confusion. His logic kept telling him that this was not a matter of life and death, Rinoa was experiencing post traumatic stress syndrome or her body was trying to reestablish some sort of homeostasis, at the same time throwing her into a sudden sickness that had been held at bay for the past day or two. It could be a number of other things as well, perhaps just a heightened breakdown. Her wounds may have also become infected where Squall had neglected to treat them well.

Guilt showered upon Squall, made more pungent by her feverish comment a moment ago. He had done little to help her cope with all the changes she had been forced through. The build-up of trauma seemed to be finally catching up, and Squall had only himself to blame for not trying to prevent it. She will be fine, he kept telling himself in the same, repeating cycles as he had been doing for the past few minutes. Her weak frame jerked slightly in his grip, then relaxed. Squall held his breath as she did so, his own panic sitting at the edge of his consciousness, like hyperventilation ready to plague his own mind.

Finally, as Squall rounded the corner of a familiar block, he could see his old house, nestled neatly between two taller buildings. He had no time to admire its preserved antiquity, though, as he finally broke into a run toward the open doorway.

He reached it, huffing loudly, and Zell hustled him in toward the bedroom. The sheets on the bed were already down as Squall carefully deposited Rinoa's form onto it. "Where's Irvine?" Zell asked, closing the dusty curtains so the room was shaded from the hot and bright sun.

"He's getting medicine from the shop," Squall replied absently, pulling the covers up around Rinoa's midsection. He leaned back and gazed at her with concern, then replaced it with a stony expression and left the room, Zell close on his heels.

"Do you need help cleaning up?" Zell inquired as they stepped into the living room.

"I should be alright," said Squall. "I need you and Irvine to head directly back to Esthar, though."

"Yes sir."

"You must give the message directly to Laguna - we can't trust anyone else working in his offices. Do not be idle either." Squall walked over to the small kitchen, retrieved a notepad and pencil, and began scratching away on it. "Here is what you must give him, if you should forget. And this," he turned a page and began writing rapidly again, "goes to Headmaster Cid at Balamb. We _must_ employ the Garden's military," Squall said sharply, underlining that part of the message. He looked back up to Zell, who was listening with an aptness not character of his disposition. "Do whatever you can to get the Headmaster to Deling."

"Yes sir."

"It is not Cid we must convince, it's Vinzer. We will do so through General Caraway, not directly. And remember, you work for _Cid_, not me."

Zell gave Squall a questioning stare. "Has President Vinzer figured out who you are?"

"I don't know," Squall said, his pencil still scratching madly away. "We can't chance it though. If Deling suspects, even for a second, that you've contacts with Esthar, we may be responsible for vast amounts of destruction and casualties. Here."

Zell took the papers from Squall's trembling hand. "You're threatening Vinzer?!" Zell exclaimed, reading the second paper addressed to Deling.

"It's not a threat," Squall stated. "I'm doing it regardless. But remember," he continued, tapping the paper sternly, "this is to Caraway. He will be more inclined to act accordingly."

"So you're threatening Caraway then?"

Squall sighed in defeat. "I'm asking the man a favor, Zell."

"In return for his daughter's life," Zell reasoned.

"It will happen if he chooses to help or not, and it is out of my power to control such things. If he wants to help prevent it - and the possibility of Rinoa's death - then he will make the smarter decision. Go quickly, and... thank you," Squall finished as Irvine stumbled throuh the door.

"Here," Irvine breathed, offering Squall a paper bag, "I got salves, antibiotics, fresh bandages, alcohol - rubbing and drinking - and soup."

"Excellent."

Irvine beamed. "You're all good then?"

"I believe so," replied Squall, nodding. "I've briefed Zell again, so I trust you'll both do fine. Much counts on your success."

"We'll get it done," Zell guaranteed, then left with a waving Irvine out the door. The sounds of the world left with them and silence was Squall's only company. That and memories he'd rather not touch on. So, he determined as he set the bag down and began sorting through it, it was high time to begin distracting himself. And he had the perfect reason to do so.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Rinoa shook her head violently, turning her nose up at the putrid liquid being thrust up to her face. "That smells nasty," she bit out between clenched teeth, fearing if she moved more than her lips, the spoon would weasel its way into her mouth.

"I don't care what it smells like," Squall retorted, inching the spoon closer to her dodging face, nearly spilling the thick fluid onto the sheets, "you're going to take it."

"You're just saying that because you don't have to! You're cruelty is insufferable!" she growled, using her hand to cover her mouth as she spoke.

"Don't be such a baby. And I'll be as cruel as I want until you take this," Squall added with dark humor. An unfamiliar glint of the tease lit his eyes and the corner of his lips tilted upward into a charming smile.

Rinoa's anger immediately dissipated as the rare expression pulled her breath away. She felt her eyes widen and, too late, her mouth begin to gape. And in went the spoon. "Mmph!"

Quite frankly, it tasted like an old man's sour armpit. All senses bidding her not to, Rinoa forced herself to swallow. Then, after a short gasp and shutter, Rinoa promptly fixed Squall with a heated glare. "Can I have some water now, O Torturous Cheater?" she asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"No, but you can have this soup I've labored over for the past ten minutes."

"Because that must've been hard work. And I can do it myself, thank you," sneered Rinoa, taking the bowl and spoon from Squall's grasp before he could start feeding her like a child.

"I've reason to believe otherwise."

"You're capable of finding reason to believe whatever your big head wants to believe," she sniffed indignantly, and lifted a spoonful of burning soup to her armpit-flavored mouth. She touched it to her lips and jerked away, spilling the contents onto the linens. "Ouch!"

"Huh. And I was just beginning to think you could take care of yourself," Squall said as he leaned back into his chair beside the bed, a smug look wrapped onto his face.

"Why don't you go make yourself useful?"

"You have a suggestion, do you?"

"I do," said Rinoa, blowing on her next spoonful of soup. "Go open the curtains."

"But will her Majesty not melt?" Squall replied in mock suprise as he rose from his seat and crossed the room to the window.

Rinoa studied him as he did so, forcing herself to forget his last comment. He was not himself. The past day she had felt herself in the company of a man she didn't recognize. She welcomed the change, however, as the teasing was much better than the silent treatment and condescending tones. He seemed lighter now, as if his feet were atop the ground, instead of under it.

The dull light of evening scattered across the room as the curtains were pulled aside. "How long was I asleep?" Rinoa asked quietly.

Squall half-turned to her from where he was staring thoughtfully out of the window into the town. His expression was no longer jesting, and he solemnly replied, "Hours. All day if you will. I wasn't timing it."

Rinoa nodded mildly, her eyes focusing onto a small, unsuspecting table in the corner of the room where a lonely vase sat atop its dusty surface. "I'm sorry..." she sighed, then added without being asked, "I'm a liability. I don't mean to be the burden I am. I'm just tired, that's all. Been through a lot, you know."

"I know." Squall faced back to the window, leaning against the wall as his expression became pensieve. The orange light dragged slowly through the room and sat heavily on Squall's sharp features.

Rinoa huffed silently, not sure what to say. "I'm not used to running around like you are," she said, trying to chuckle at her self-condemnation, but it failed miserably. She shifted uncomfortably and continued to eat the soup. The foreign spices seemed tastless as she ate, her mind far and near. Her eyelids felt heavy from the exhausting day, even though she had spent the most of it in a tumultuous sleep. A good night's rest should revive her, she thought, and scooped more soup into her mouth.

As the spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, Rinoa looked around for a nightstand. Finding none but the small desk across the room, she stared meaningfully at Squall. He had been watching Rinoa out of the corner of his eye while she ate, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by her. "You can either pretend you don't see me or we can continue this into the night. I assure you, I'm quite fit to stay awake after my long nap," she lied. Sighing, Squall came over and took the bowl, left the room, then returned shortly.

"What?" questioned Rinoa as he raised his brows expectantly.

"You've got another teaspoon of this stuff to take," he replied dryly.

"Oh no you don't," Rinoa said quickly, sinking into the sanctuary of the bed and covering the bottom of her face beneath the soup-stained sheets. Squall sat on the edge of the mattress and studied the little he could still see of her. "I'm fine, really, just a little bug," reassured Rinoa in a muffled voice. "It's all gone now, I promise." Fear of armpits shone in her rounded eyes. It was true, the fever had disappeared completely after she had awoken, and her spirit seemed fit enough to run laps around the town, even if her body was still wobbly.

"Fine," consented Squall. "Your bandages need changing though."

Rinoa seemed to dip even further beneath the covers. She hoped it covered the rosy blush that had risen into her pale cheeks. "Eh, now?" she peeped.

"Unless you'd prefer we wait until they mold to the wound, and then we can rip it off." He accentuated the r-word.

Rinoa quietly lowered the sheet and sat up obligingly. The wrist and leg bandages were simple to change, Rinoa handling most of it herself. The midriff was awkward though, as she had to sit cross-legged on the matress with her back to Squall while he unfastened the knot of gauze. She had not been cognizant the last time her bandages were wrapped, so she sat in an pressing silence with her shirt held up uncomfortably high. Even worse was the unraveling of the strips, Squall's arms taking turns circling around her from behind to lead the bandages away from the skin.

Rinoa hissed in slight pain when the bottom layer was removed, the material sticking to the raw, open flesh from either the salve or infection, possibly both. Squall left the room and returned with a damp cloth that he gave to her to dab softly at the deep cut. The wound felt refreshed with the cool air upon it, but it stretched painfully when she straightened her back.

They worked in a rhythmic tranquility, the only sound their soft breaths and the muffled voices of people outside in the nearby plaza. Rinoa washed the wound, careful to keep her shirt decently covering her, while Squall meshed together a small, thick mixture that reeked of crude nature.

"Here," Squall said, breaking the long silence. He motioned for Rinoa to hand him the wet cloth and she did, watching him guardedly over her shoulder. Squall was regretting he didn't take care of this _before_ Rinoa woke, for the task had been much easier when he didn't have to worry about where his gaze lingered or how he might graze her sensative flesh. Now, with Rinoa staring curiously at him, her uncertain innocence prominent throughout her vulnerable form, Squall was finding it hard to concentrate on his central task. His mind kept wandering to the girl's soft, quivering skin exposed by the lifted shirt, or the way her breath quickened and became unsteady as he reached tentatively around her.

Squall sheared these thoughts from his mind and focused his attention on the task at hand. "This might be cold," he warned, and couldn't help but notice Rinoa suck in her breath in anticipation. Dipping his fingers into the salve, Squall gently touched the opaque mixture to the cuts on Rinoa's right side. She gave a small yelp and gasped steeply. Squall had to pause and clench his teeth, forcing himself to stop thinking about other instances where the same, innocently surprised noise might come from Rinoa's lips.

"You said it was _cold_, not _freezing_!" Rinoa protested, thankfully derailing Squall's thoughts. He immediately recovered.

"You come from a land where the snow never seems to stop. Don't tell me you can't handle this." Wrong idea, Squall realized too late. He shouldn't have reminded her of home, for she grew unnaturally stiff and stared hard at the headboard. Tch, so sensative! Squall pressed his lips together nonetheless, lest another mistake slip out. He continued to apply the medicine, reaching around Rinoa's still form to gently rub it into the wound.

Even angry with him, Rinoa couldn't help the flickering flames that ran through her that were not the cause of his harsh reminder. When strong, calloused fingers were tenderly brushing her sore and the sensative skin around it, Rinoa could hardly breath. His proximity was really nothing new, but lately just the thought of his nearness sent small electric shocks through her veins. She wanted to tell him to stop, that she could take care of the rest, but she didn't want to. Overwhelming emotions pulsed and kept her mouth shut tight. She hoped she still appeared piqued; he might finish sooner if she seemed upset.

Soon enough, he was wrapping a fresh bandage around her, which was not much better than bare hands on her stomach. The gauze had to be tight, so Squall was constantly tucking in the corners and smoothing the wrinkles. The material did little to deflect the heat of his powerful hands as they grasped, smoothed, tucked, then grasped again.

He finished an eternity later, securing a new knot on Rinoa's sides. He plucked the shirt from her clenched fingers and pulled it down back over her. Smoothing it unnecessarily, his fingertips hesitated at her hips, where he was struggling with himself to not grasp her by the delicate dip of her body and pull her back against his own. She would be helpless there, with nothing she could do while he let his hands travel up the form of her perfectly shaped body; nothing she could do as he let himself fall into the embrace of her snowy fragrance and wrap himself around her, keeping the woes of the world at bay...

"Thank you."

Squall blinked and found Rinoa had crawled back under the covers, her eyes half-lidded as she stifled a yawn. Squall felt angry, guilty, excited, and dissapointed all at the same time. He only replied with a slight nod, then gathered the first aid supplies and promptly left, shutting the door loudly behind him.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Squall stepped out onto the street where the orange, melting light of dusk basked the small town in a warm glow. The plaza was a short walk away and Squall met few people on the walk there. They tended to mind their own business, which relieved Squall greatly; the most acknowledgement recieved was a tiny nod. Squalls thoughts seemed far and harmless and a sacred quietness filled the large spaces between. Discomforts skipped and dragged behind his heels in the cool tranquility and for once, not thinking seemed easy.

The center square accomodated a few more people than the roads and walkways did. Life continued to mill about docily, shuffling hither and thither to sweep doorsteps or relate the day's events with a neighbor. Laughter and smiles were all about, ringing with a keen familiarity. Squall paused, admiring the hushed loudness of the people talking in light, unworried tones. Winhill was the escape from a world of politics, and though it still housed its share of gossip and concern, the talk of war and unhappiness was addressed as if it were another world, far away from the flowershops, the cafes, and the vast green fields. The small population was most concerned with the fresh spring season, their biggest worries circulating around which day would be best to plant vegetable seeds and which flowers looked the most ready for picking.

Squall hoped the town's atmosphere would please Rinoa, though her first experience had been a bit rushed and unpleasant. The scene of introducing her to the peaceful town life had gone differently in his head, but he supposed life was always out to prove its unpredictablilty. He had faith that the following day would be more promising; he was reluctantly looking forward to dragging Rinoa through the welcoming streets of Winhill and watching her pleased expression. Surely she would enjoy it.

Squall felt foolish for his adolescent excitement, as if he would be handing her a gift he had been preparing for months, which was quite untrue considering the decision to go to Winhill was rather hasty and recently made. But he felt a proud swell in his demeanor he had payed little attention to before, that he had desired to bring Rinoa here, to this place so like her home, as if to show that he, too, was familiar with the comforts of a quiet, relaxed life. Or perhaps he was excited for himself - excited to have the excuse to return home where he didn't have to pretend to be angry or repulsed because it was a last resort and the smartest decision. But although he was glad to be home, there was still a sour taste left in his mouth from the last time he had been here. Bad memories clung to him like old cobwebs, trailing as if a persistent nuisance. They were peevish little things, draping and dragging at his feet. The stole away some of the joy in the people's voices, darkened some buildings more than the evening shadows, killed the beauty of the new spring flowers like a suffocating barrier that he was unable or unwilling to clear.

So Squall walked past the silhouettes of happiness that chattered away and nodded in his direction. He walked past the shop windows that glinted gaily at him, walked past the buildings where nightlamps flickered on, and walked past the flower beds that were folding for the night. He walked past his past and into an old tavern that had once been a very prominent part of his childhood. The earliest years of his life had been spent in the house connected to the back of the pub, but his father had later moved himself and Squall to a smaller establishment on the edge of town soon after the death of Squall's mother and sister. That had been shortly after their first trip up to Trabia, where they had met Trenille.

Squall had been unhappy with the change of housing, but quite frankly, he had been unhappy with nearly everything at the time. Laguna had defended his decision because he claimed the old house was too full of memories, but Squall had been an unreasonable child and Laguna too heartbroken to argue much, so they both lived a few years in the misery of each other's company. Not soon after, a small airship had landed on the outskirts of town, much to the surprise and even outrage of the townsfolk. The people of Winhill were accustomed to a reclusive life that had little to do with officials. And these officials were from a foreign country to boot. The airship had come from Esthar, carrying some very anxious and irritable politics from the Esthar Homeland Committee. There had also been a few men that had known Laguna from years in his youth when he had been serving in the Galbadian Army. During Laguna's enlistment, the two nations had been close allies, fighting a common adversary, for apparently some people had been getting upset by the rule of Sorceress Adel, Esthar's dictating leader from many years past. Squall was still unclear on the details, for he never thought to ask or care, but a small band of soldiers, Laguna included, had successfully aborted Adel's rule with the help of Estharian technology.

The few men who arrived in Winhill on the airship who knew of Laguna had been with him during the success of the mission, and were currently searching for a new head of state. Laguna, restless with mourning and unsure of himself, had initially refused when the airship came. But the Estharians returned again and again, each time with the same offer and new persuasive reasons. Squall would watch them from around the kitchen corner as Laguna argued with the strange men, sometimes politely, other times with unkind words.

After many months and repeated visits, the airship had returned a final time, but with two of Laguna's closest friends from the war, Kiros Seagul and Ward Zaback. They had been offered high positions in the office as well if Laguna took the offer. Though it could have been rightly called a bribe, Ward and Kiros only came with kind suggestions that perhaps Laguna would be better off taking a short leave from the hurtful memories and that Squall might better adjust in a highly populated city where he was bound to find many friends to take his mind off his tragic loss. He had always been a lonely child, attached to his sister at all times.

Laguna had finally consented and he and Squall left promptly for Esthar. Squall could still see the departure in his head, watching his home sink away through the clouds like a queer silent film. In Esthar, the city of opportunity where Squall was expected to socialize and Laguna to save a sinking nation, things had not worked out as planned. Soon enough the world was back on its feet from Adel and Galbadia was becoming agitated at the thought of one of their own veteran soldiers taking command of another nation that although ally, could also become formitable foe. Galbadia's new president, Vinzer, had presented treaty after treaty to the stabilizing Esthar, each rejected by Laguna, for they all offered long-lasting peace _only_ if the heart of Esthar's technology and resources were shared, quite unproportionally, with Galbadia. Laguna, sensing Galbadia's attempt to rise as a single world power, had kindly refused, whereas Vinzer, detecting a city too advanced for anyone's good, set out to claim neutral territories before Esthar could. By this time, Laguna was no longer paying much heed to his military, which had been taken over by a conglomeration of Estharian scientists and Balamb allies, and had responded in kind to Vinzer's startling tactic. By the time Galbadia had suspected Esthar was truly under the control of another sorceress, Squall had already left after a heated arguement with Laguna.

By command of Laguna, nearly the only true command he gave to the military, Squall was to be found and brought back. The orders were vague and the more extreme tacticians of Esthar foresaw a danger in Squall's leaving and possible exposure of Estharian information to the enemy nation. Worse would happen if he traveled too far north, so the military employed some of its more vicious retrieval methods, sending fleets of dragon riders to Trabia in hopes of intercepting Squall's potential path. The riders were instructed to use any means possible to retrieve information from and to intimidate the Trabian people.

Traveling to west, Squall's initial intent was to convince Balamb Garden's Headmaster, Cid, to give up rein on the Esthar military. Incidently, Squall had befriended the headmaster and two graduate SeeDs, Irvine Kinneas and Zell Dinct. Cid had explained that Balamb had no true power over Esthar's military actions, which mostly sat in the hands of Estharian tacticians and scientists, a department of the city that even Squall had little influence over. Only President Loire had the jurisdiction to regain control, but Squall was unwilling to return and face his father or his own shame.

Cid had also explained the Galbadian perspective, since Balamb Garden often acted as a middleman between the two major nations. Squall, realizing the truth of Galbadia's fear and hasty actions, traveled to Deling City to join the Galbadian Forces with Irvineand Zell to gain more insight. Supposed to be purely for a political strive toward peace, Squall added his own element of unearned vengeance on his father during his enlistment, hoping to bring down the Estharian government and have Laguna eradicated. Squall had been too blinded by his own grief and anger to notice that that was what his father had wanted most. Only later had that come to mind, too late for the plan to be changed, for by then Squall had discovered a tool most useful to help end the war, bloody or not...

The door swung closed behind Squall as he stepped into the building, a wave of nostalgia washing over him and then dissipating as he blocked his mind off from the troublesome thoughts. The place had been refurbished and was hardly recognizeable from its former state that Squall had known, much to his relief. A few people glanced up at him through their conversation, studying him with open curiosity, then returning to their business. Squall made his way to the front and pulled a stool from under the bar, sitting on it and scooting forward. He smoothed his hands along the familiar polished wood and let the melody of many conversations and chinking glasses lull him into a state of choked remembrance.

The young bartender spotted him and slid over, tilting her head cutely. "Can I get you something?"

"Anything strong," remarked Squall, leaning on the counter and resting his chin in a palm.

"Sure thing," replied the girl, turning back to the cabinet with various alcohols bottled inside. Squall watched her movements as she made the drink, the rehearsed action perfect and smooth. She worked quickly and efficiently, holding a charming innocence about her in the same way that Squall's mother had when he used to watch her. Squall felt suddenly angry with the girl for no reason except that she mimiced the actions of a shadow that Squall still longed for. Soon enough she finished and came back, gently placing the drink in front of him. She didn't leave, however, instead tilting her head at him again. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You look familiar. Do I know you?" she inquired.

"No," Squall replied coldly, wanting this capsule of a memory to leave him be. Ironic, he thought, to sit surrounded by his past, looking for the solution to forget, served by a memory the tonic to his troubles.

"Adam, look here," the girl went on, undaunted by Squall's bitter tone. "Doesn't this guy look like someone we know?"

The man apparently named Adam was sitting next to Squall, and he turned and blinked at him with a slightly buzzed expression. He furrowed his brows for a moment. "Hey yeah, you kinda do. Where you from anyway?"

"Far away. You don't know me. I don't know you." Squall finished his drink in several gulps and asked for another before turning his back on the man. It was hard to forget the past when the past kept trying to remember you.

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A/N: What's this? Do I smell romance? Or am I just sweating profusely? Ha. As always, comments and suggestions are appreciated:D


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